Friends Shall Be Enemies, Enemies Shall Be Friends
by Sierra Leone
Summary: Sakura dies unexpectedly and Xiao Lang's cousin Zhen Li – a 1st year student at Hogwarts – becomes the next cardcaptor.  While in Diagon Alley she meets Harry, changing his fate and hers as in the two become friends, perhaps more.  Harry becomes Zhen's ally in capturing and protecting the Clow Cards.  Zhen in turn helps Harry to discover the true power of the Chosen One. AU/OC
1. Prologue: Of Good Company

An extensive knowledge of the anime/manga series isn't necessary to enjoy this story as it is set in Harry Potter's world and will focus on that timeline. All necessary knowledge of the series will be included in the story that follows. I hope you will enjoy it!

**Summary:** Sakura dies unexpectedly and Xiao Lang's cousin Zhen Li – a 1st year student at Hogwarts – becomes the next cardcaptor. While in Diagon Alley she meets Harry, changing his fate and hers as in the two become friends, perhaps more. Harry becomes Zhen's ally in capturing and protecting the Clow Cards. Zhen in turn helps Harry to discover the true power of the Chosen One, power he never would have believed he could possess, as he faces Sirius Black, the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and the Dark Lord himself. However, both are unaware that the mysterious sorceress hunting Zhen has joined forces with the Dark Lord, making Harry's task even more difficult. With two of the most powerful magical beings in existence as their adversaries and an unparalleled darkness rising Zhen and Harry struggle to sort friend from foe in a world where friends are enemies and enemies are friends. A wrong choice could mean their death.

Author's note: I know there are some of you waiting for an update on my LOTR's story, but I'm finding that in order to begin writing regularly again I need to start exploring some of the ideas that have been cluttering up my mind. I haven't forgotten, I promise. To those unfamiliar to my other stories... WELCOME! I hope you will enjoy my newest undertaking! And on a personal note, I may not update as swiftly as some, but I have yet to abandon a project once started and will update as soon as my health-related problems permit.

Best wishes and welcome,

Sierra

Prologue: In Good Company

"I'm telling you Black is a menace! Azkaban ought to have done away with him years ago. If anything happens to Potter there will be an uproar the likes of which we haven't seen since the days of you-know-who!"

Albus Dumbledore might have been amused to see the Minister of Magic in such a state of sheer panic if that panic wasn't related to a certain green-eyed boy, one Harry Potter. Or if he could have convinced himself that the man was more concerned with Harry's safety than the political backlash of letting the boy-who-lived come to harm.

Cornelius Fudge had come directly to Hogwarts after securing Harry at the Leaky Cauldron just after five this morning and having listened to the man's ravings for the past two hours had done nothing to sooth Dumbledore's already worn nerves. Not that he wasn't in agreement. Having Sirius Black loose and destined for places unknown was not good. Not good at all.

However, having spent the night scouring the known world for one of his students, ill with worry and grief, had done little for his patience. He hadn't slept in thirty-seven hours. The sun was now well up over the Scottish vales surrounding the castle. He wanted nothing more than a mug of hot chocolate piled with marshmallows and his bed.

"Harry will be quite safe at the Leaky Cauldron, Cornelius," he stated evenly, interrupting the man's continued diatribe midstream as he lifted his bowed head and met the minister's bulging eyes. "At least as safe as he will be anywhere else, with perhaps the exception of this castle."

The stout man huffed and slouched deeper into the navy armchair Albus had produced when this conversation began.

"The boy should be under the protection of Aurors at all times," Fudge insisted, his rounded chin jutting defiantly toward the elder wizard. "We thought it was impossible for anyone to escape Azkaban and yet Black's done it. No telling what he might do to a young boy."

"Indeed, there isn't," Albus agreed, removing his glasses and pressing his thin fingers against his weighted eyelids. "Yet surrounding him with Aurors will only lead Sirius right to him. We don't even know if he's aware of Harry's location and as such I suggest we leave Harry be for the moment. In a few weeks he will be here under the protection of me and my staff. Until then we shall have to trust him to forces greater than ourselves."

"As we did his parents?" Albus stiffened at the Minister's barely veiled insult, straightening himself in his chair and rolling his shoulders as if a blow had just been landed between them. "We merely gave that madman the opportunity he needed to deliver them to the Dark Lord. It was foolish to trust such a scoundrel with their protection."

Albus set his teeth firmly and stood, placing his spectacles on the bridge of his nose with more force than was necessary as he turned to face his unwelcome guest.

"Wishing to change the past and seeking to place blame will get us nowhere, Cornelius," Albus reminded sternly as with a flick of his wrist, his chair disappeared, "and I'm sure after last night you must be exhausted. Perhaps we might continue this conversation after you've had some rest."

He was playing to the man's ego, well-aware that the Minister's search had begun and ended at the Leaky Cauldron, but it worked. With a nod and great yawn, the suddenly weary minister stood.

"Quite right, Albus, quite right. It's been a trying night and I'm sure I'll be needed to solve some other calamity before lunch."

Albus fought mightily to keep the corners of his mouth from twitching upward as he passed the Minister his pin-striped cloak, leading him toward the door.

"Indeed, Minister. I trust you can find your own way out?"

"Yes, yes, of course, Albus, good day."

Albus watched until the man entered the revolving staircase and then shut the door, resting his back against it as he sighed deeply. Word of Harry's disappearance had come late last evening and the hours until word of his finding had seemed interminably long. Yet finding the boy had done little to ease Albus' concern. It was not enough that Voldemort's servants were seeking to bring about the boy's end, now he had to contend with a deranged wizard of great skill and even greater cunning. Not to mention that Albus himself was now forced to face the guilt that had haunted him since the death of the Potters.

Sirius Black. As a schoolboy he'd been a troublemaker to be sure, but a murderer? Albus still found it difficult to believe, although he wasn't sure if his difficultly stemmed from Sirius' character or his own guilt and feelings of betrayal. He had trusted Sirius. The man had been a member of the Order, trusted with the lives and secrets of many, and had proven to be the exception to the foul darkness that tainted the Black family bloodline. He had been James' closest and most trusted friend. Could they all have been so fooled? All the evidence told him that they had been and in his heart Albus wept as he opened the door and with great weariness, began the journey down the spiral staircase to the main castle.

"Albus."

He paused, registering the grinding click of the gargoyle locking in place behind him as he turned to the sound of the voice, startled when he collided with Minerva McGonagall. He chuckled, reaching out to steady the woman in front of him.

"I was hoping to run into you on my way to the kitchens Miverva, but not in such a literal fashion." He felt his teasing smile slip as the woman lifted her ashen face to meet his gaze. His grip on her thin shoulders tightened reflexively. "What's wrong?"

"You need to read these." Albus took the two parchments she held out to him. "The second arrived last evening, but with all the confusion of Mister Potter's disappearance I didn't get to it until just before dawn. By the time I realized what it was, you were already in your meeting with the Minister. I came as soon as Filius told me the he'd left."

Albus watched from the corner of his eye as Minerva wrapped her arms around herself tightly, shivering in spite of her tartan bathrobe and knitted slippers. Her dark hair was draped across her right shoulder in a neatly tied braid and she fiddled with the end as her eyes flicked from his face to the letters in his hand. The shadows under her pale eyes told him she hadn't slept and though she'd never admit it, he knew her sleepless night was because of Harry's disappearance. He'd known her long enough to see through her stern decorum to the soft heart that held deep love and fierce protectiveness for every student that passed through Hogwarts' gates.

"This is just a standard reply to our offer of enrolment," he stated as he finished the first letter. He paused. "Zhen Li. Is she any relation to Lian Li?"

Minerva nodded.

"Her daughter and it is the second letter that most concerns me."

Albus nodded slipping the first letter into the deep pocket of his maroon robes and nearly dropping the second at the sight of the seal, that of the Li Clan. The handwriting was different from the child that had written the first letter and he felt a slight wariness as he began to read.

_Salutations to those concerned,_

_As you have been made aware, the offer made by your school for Miss Zhen Li to attend has been accepted. _

_However, while the council will permit Miss Li to attend, there are certain things of which you must be aware. First, Miss Li's attendance is conditional. She must be permitted to continue to train in the traditional arts and magics of the Li clan. Second, I feel I must warn you that allowing Miss Li to attend could be dangerous to you and your students. _

_For generations our clan has been tasked with the protection of powerful magics created by one of our ancestors, Clow Reed – a name I would guess is familiar even to wizards of the west. It was Clow Reed who accomplished what all had previously thought impossible – combining the magics of east and west – and in doing so, he created magics unrivalled in power and promise in the form of the Clow Cards. _

_Upon his death our clan was charged with preventing the Clow Cards from falling into the wrong hands and we have done so. The cards were placed under the mastery of a young girl named Sakura Kinimoto nine years ago and as such she became a sorceress of unparalleled power, able to protect the cards from those who might seek to use them for dark purpose. _

_Having married a member of this Clan, she became a Li, a sacred protector of the magics Clow Reed forged. But such protection was not to last. Sakura Li died seven months ago from a prolonged illness meaning that the cards are once again without a master, both dangerous and vulnerable to any who might seek to wield them._

_This may seem unimportant to you given your own concerns with the escape of Sirius Black and the increasing activity of the remnants of Voldemort's followers, but it is more important than you know. Zhen Li has been chosen as the next capdcaptor and as such is tasked with finding and sealing the Clow Cards like Sakura before her. Because of this Zhen is in grave danger and this danger – both from the cards and those who seek to claim them for themselves – may follow her to Hogwarts._

_It is not the intention of the Li clan to prevent Zhen from attending, but we would be negligent if we were to send her without making you aware of the dangers her presence may bring. We cannot protect her there. Nor can we protect those around her. _

_Selfishly I must admit that my motives are not purely those that my position as the head of the Li Clan dictates. Zhen is my niece, and having been raised in my household, is as precious to me as my own children. I fear for her safety if I and my children are not there to protect her._

_As such I would like to arrange a meeting between your headmaster and my sister Lian before classes begin so that Zhen's time at Hogwarts can be discussed. Lian and Zhen will be staying with Zhen's grandparents Sylvia and Hayward Parish in England two weeks before classes begin. All further communications should be directed to them._

_Regards,_

_Yelan Li_

Minerva had watched the lines of Albus' aged face deepen as his blue eyes flicked back and forth behind his gold-rimmed spectacles. She could only wonder at what he was thinking as he read the letter for a second time and a third. Her own mind was whirling.

Her knowledge of eastern magic such as was practiced in Asia was decidedly limited, but she had heard of Clow Reed. His father had been a British wizard after all. What most concerned her were the Clow Cards. She had never heard of them, but if what this woman Yelan had written in her letter was true they were powerful and dangerous. How could they let this girl attend knowing the danger she would be bringing with her?

The sound of hushed voices caught her attention and she looked to the end of the hall. Filius Flitwick stood, gesturing earnestly as he commented on the great fortune and relief of having found Harry Potter before Black. Severus Snape's apathetic agreement barely hid his loathing for the boy as he stalked past the diminutive professor to the stairs to the Great Hall. Filius seemed unbothered by Severus' chronically sour countenance, waving to the petulant man as he stepped into a nearby classroom.

Minerva stared at the empty hallway long after her fellow professors had left it, reminded of the previous night's events and the source of their concern. Sirius Black. The man was a deranged killer, a follower of the Dark Lord and he was after Harry Potter who in three weeks time, would be here at this school with all of the other Hogwarts students. Few things could be more dangerous to the students of Hogwarts and yet it had never occurred to her that Harry shouldn't come. In fact, before reading the letter from Yelan Li she'd been on her way to demand Dumbledore let her go and get him from the Leaky Cauldron and bring him here until the start of the school year.

How was this young girl Zhen any different? It was no more her fault that she had been chosen to seal and defend these dangerous cards than it was Harry's that his parents' murderer had escaped from prison. Minerva felt her heart squeeze. The poor girl was probably terrified and without the protection of her family, she would be defenceless. She felt her eyes water at the thought of that little girl fighting such dangerous magics alone. She needed protection and with Albus Dumbledore as headmaster there were few places safer in the world than Hogwarts castle.

Beside her Albus sighed, his shoulders sagging as he finally slid the second letter into his pocket and looked at her with weary blue eyes. Impulsively, she reached out, laying her hand on his forearm.

"Albus?"

"It seems Mister Potter will be in good company when it comes to attracting danger this year," he mused.

Minerva nodded in agreement.

"I only wonder if our students can survive it."

Albus chuckled quietly, squeezing her hands briefly, his eyes twinkling knowingly.

"Perhaps, Minerva, perhaps it will be the best thing for them." Minerva blinked, startled by his sudden optimism. She watched, bewildered as the elder wizard made his way toward the kitchens, mumbling to himself. "I wonder if they have any of the multicoloured marshmallows. Yes, those ones really are my favourite. Such flavour."

Minerva shook her head, smiling slightly and wishing she could know what went on inside his mind. She trusted him implicitly and was comforted by his assurances, but Albus Dumbledore would ever be a mystery.

To be continued...

Please review! I write in a forum in hopes of hearing your opinions and I adore constructive criticism as well.


	2. CH 1: Of Meetings

An extensive knowledge of the anime/manga series isn't necessary to enjoy this story as it is set in Harry Potter's world and will focus on that timeline. All necessary knowledge of the series will be included in the story that follows. I hope you will enjoy it!

**Summary:** Sakura dies unexpectedly and Xiao Lang's cousin Zhen Li – a 1st year student at Hogwarts – becomes the next cardcaptor. While getting her supplies in Diagon Alley she meets Harry, changing his fate and hers as in the two become friends, perhaps more. Harry becomes Zhen's ally in capturing and protecting the Clow Cards. Zhen in turn helps Harry to discover the true power of the Chosen One, power he never would have believed he could possess, as he faces Sirius Black, the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and the Dark Lord himself. However, both are unaware that the mysterious sorceress hunting Zhen has joined forces with the Dark Lord, making Harry's task even more difficult. With two of the most powerful magical beings in existence as their adversaries and an unparalleled darkness rising Zhen and Harry struggle to sort friend from foe in a world where friends are enemies and enemies are friends. A wrong choice could mean their death.

Author's Note: This chapter is longer than most of the chapters will be, but when I start a chapter there are certain points I wish to cover and this one – being the first in a cross over – had A LOT to cover. Crossovers where characters are unceremoniously dumped into another world without explanation are a pet peeve of mine so I'm doing my best to tie these two worlds together. Therefore this chapter has A LOT of information. Read carefully and if you have ANY questions or comments please let me know. Not everything you need to know for the story has been explained here, but it's a base to get you started. Most of all ENJOY! And I love to hear from you no matter what your thoughts – negative, positive, silly, inane, or just plain excited!

Regards,

Sierra

Chapter 1: Meetings of the Accidental and the Scheduled Sort

"Go away, Hedwig!"

Harry's protest was muffled by a feather pillow as he attempted to burrow deeper under the covers to escape Hedwig's persistent nips at his ear. Hedwig either didn't understand, or chose to ignore him, chasing him under the covers, hooting persistently. Harry groaned and flopped onto his back, tossing the covers off and sending Hedwig flying. She landed with an indignant hoot on the window ledge and began preening her ruffled feathers. Harry chuckled and reached for his glasses.

"Serves you right for waking me up while I'm still on vacation," he informed her as he sat up and stretched, smiling in spite of his unwanted wake up call. He'd been staying at the Leaky Cauldron for a week and had never had so much freedom in his life. He could go where he wanted, when he wanted, and with whom he wanted, provided he didn't leave Diagon Alley. Quite frankly, Harry had no desire to leave. There wasn't a Dursley in sight. "What shall we do today, Hedwig?"

The snowy owl tipped her head, blinking her wide eyes at him curiously. Harry hadn't expected an answer, but had become accustomed to speaking to her. He wasn't lonely in particular, but somehow it made him feel less alone if he spoke to someone, even if that someone was an owl that couldn't answer. Harry shucked off his pyjamas and opened his trunk, pulling out a red t-shirt, a pair of jeans, and two mismatched socks. As he hauled them on he thought about the broom he'd seen in the window of Quality Quidditch Supplies, the Firebolt. He'd spent all last night dreaming about riding it. His favourite part of the dream had been when he'd circled Malfoy so fast the other boy fell off his broom. Harry grinned, still able to remember the expression on Malfoy's face as he stepped into his sneakers and opened the door to the hallway.

Most mornings Harry took his time eating breakfast to look at all of the curious customers staying at the Leaky Cauldron, but this morning he'd slept late. There was no one in the dining room except for Tom. The landlord greeted him cheerfully and brought him a steaming bowl of hot cereal and a tall glass of pumpkin juice before returning to wiping the crumb-covered tables. With no one to hold his attention, Harry ate quickly, thanking Tom as he dashed up the stairs to grab his school books and his wand before slipping out the back door of the pub. Tapping on the third brick from the left above the dumpster Harry waited patiently for the way to Diagon Alley to open and then joined the endless stream of shoppers as they bustled from one store to the next.

Harry was in no particular hurry and quickly found himself falling behind his rushing counterparts as he ambled along the busy street, glancing in the shop windows on his way to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. He spent most of his days there working on his homework, enjoying being able to do it outside. Not that free sundaes every half hour hurt either. Harry smiled, already tasting fudge sauce as he turned a bend in the road, unexpectedly colliding with something very solid moving in the opposite direction. He staggered backward, tripping over his own feet, and landed hard on his rear.

Rubbing his tailbone Harry looked up, expecting to find someone of Hagrid's girth, but instead there was a small Asian girl sitting across from him on the cobblestones. She had long black hair tied up into two pig tails with a bun at the top of each and warm brown eyes that glittered with unshed tears as she slowly picked herself up, speaking rapidly in a language Harry didn't recognize.

"I'm sorry, but I don't understand you," Harry said, being careful to speak slowly but not to shout, in case she understood a little English. "Are you all right?"

The girl stopped her awkward clamber, looking him in the eye for the first time. She blinked once, her eyes widening as tears trickled down her cheeks.

"I'm so sorry! You didn't understand a word of that did you?" The girl's English was perfect, her accent nearly as British as Harry's as she continued her apologies. "Sorry for running into you like that. It was my fault. I wasn't looking where I was going. Are you all right?"

"Yes, thank you, I'm fine," Harry managed. "Why were you in such a hurry?"

"I was shopping with my cousin and I stopped to look in one of the shop windows. When I turned around again he was gone." The girl's voice broke slightly and fresh tears welled in the corners of her eyes. "I've only been to Diagon Alley a few times, so I don't know my way around very well. I tried to find him, and well, you can see how that worked."

Harry smiled and pushed himself up off the sidewalk.

"I understand completely. I was eleven when I first came here and if it hadn't been for Hagrid I know I'd have gotten lost." Harry paused, bothered by her tears. "I know my way around pretty well now though. Maybe I could help you find your family."

The girl looked up at him and beamed. Harry decided he liked it much better when she was smiling.

"Would you really?"

"Of course," Harry assured her as he pulled her to her feet. Giving the girl a moment to brush herself off Harry reached to straighten his glasses, startled to find his hand smeared with blood. He frowned, wiping it off on his jeans. "Did you hurt yourself?"

The girl blushed.

"It's nothing, really."

Harry reached out and took her hands, turning them palm up. The right one was scraped and bloodied.

"We need to get your hand looked after," he told her firmly. "Then we'll find your folks, all right?"

The girl nodded, her cheeks still red as Harry took her by the wrist, leading her back the way she'd come and into Florean's ice cream shop. He stopped just inside the door, looking for the shop's brightly dressed proprietor. It was early enough in the day that the tables inside were empty, but he knew Florean Fortescue would still be somewhere nearby. Harry had never seen him anywhere else in fact. Part of him wondered if the man ever went home.

"Mr. Fortescue?" A muted reply came from somewhere in the back of the shop. Harry smiled at the girl beside him reassuringly. "I'm sure he'll be right out."

No sooner had he spoken than the green door behind the counter swung open and Florean Fortescue walked out, a pile of boxes balancing on his forearms. The wizard smiled.

"Hullo Harry, looking for more help on the witch burnings are you? I'll just scoop you up a sundae first. Won't be a tick."

"Actually Mr. Fortescue, I was hoping you might be able to help this girl," Harry said, nudging her closer to the counter. "We bumped into one another just outside your shop and she's scraped her hand."

The bearded wizard frowned and lifted a small section of the counter up like a gate.

"Had a bit of a mishap, did you Miss?" The girl nodded silently as the elder wizard knelt in front of her, taking her hands in his much larger ones. "My, that's a nasty scrape, that is," Mr. Fortescue observed, pulling his wand from his pocket and flicking it toward one of the stools that stood along the front of the counter. The stool promptly lowered itself to an appropriate height for the small girl. "Up you go, Miss, and we'll get a good look at things." The young girl complied, settling herself on the stool as Mr. Fortescue drew a burgundy handkerchief from his vest pocket. He looked up at the young girl and smiled, patting away the tears drying on her cheeks. "Now, now, no need for tears, Miss. I'm no Madam Pomfrey, but I'll have you right as rain soon as can be."

The girl tipped her head enquiringly, her long pig-tails swishing against the counter behind her.

"Madam Pomfrey?"

"She's the Matron of the healing wing at Hogwarts," Mr. Fortescue explained as he dabbed at the blood on her palm with his handkerchief, "but I suppose you're a bit too young for Hogwarts yet."

"Actually, I'm going this year," the girl replied with a smile. "I'm here to get some of my school supplies."

"Going already are you? My, I'd have thought you'd have another year or two to wait." Mr. Fortescue tucked his handkerchief into his pants pocket and then angled the tip of his wand just above her palm, murmuring a spell Harry didn't recognize. The wand gleamed for a few seconds and the ragged edges of the scrape became nothing but faint lines across her palm. "There you are. Get a sundae into you and you'll be better than ever."

"Thank you."

"Of course, my dear," Mr. Fortescue said, patting her head fondly as he stood. "Good thing Mister Potter was there to look after you, hm?"

The girl blinked.

"Potter?"

Mr. Fortescue grinned and Harry groaned inwardly as he slid onto the stool next to hers. He'd been dreading this moment since he agreed to help her find her family. The moment when she realized he was Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived. First would come surprise, then awe, and then something Harry could only describe as worship. He shivered. There had been a few notable exceptions like Hermione, Ron, Neville, and admittedly, even Malfoy, but on the whole most people were like Colin Creevey. All of the attention made Harry immensely uncomfortable.

"As in Harry Potter?"

"The one and only," crowed Mr. Fortescue.

Harry winced. The girl smiled broadly and swivelled her stool so that she was facing him. Harry took a deep breath and tried to prepare himself. He did not do well with fawning admiration.

"You're the seeker for Gryffindor!"

Harry blinked.

"E-excuse me?"

The girl's smile fell.

"You aren't? Oh I'm sorry, I guess—

"No," Harry interrupted hurriedly, "I am, I am, I guess I-I'm used to people recognizing me for, for another reason."

"Oh, sorry if I've offended you."

"Not at all," Harry assured her, relaxing. "In fact it's a welcome change," Harry paused. "You know, I just realized I don't know your name either."

The girl laughed.

"Sorry, I'm Zhen Li."

"Here you go children."

Harry looked up as Mr. Fortescue set two heaping bowls of ice cream coated with every imaginable type of sprinkle and sauce on the counter in front of them. His mouth began to water.

"Thanks, Mr. Fortescue, but Zhen's been separated from her family. I told her I'd help her find them. We'd probably better get these to go."

"Quite right, my boy, quite right," Mr. Fortescue agreed and with a flick of his wand the two glass dishes were replaced with plastic containers. "There you are."

"Thank you, how much do I owe you?"

"Owe me?" Mr. Fortescue's entire face wrinkled in an expression of horror. "Not a knut, my girl! Now, off you go with Mister Potter to find those missing parents of yours. Can't let parents out of your sight for even a second or they go wandering off. Right lot of work they are."

Mr. Fortescue winked and Zhen smiled as her stool lowered itself again to accommodate her short stature. Harry slid off his stool and plucked two spoons from a jar on the counter, passing one to Zhen as they stepped out into the sunshine.

"So do you have any idea where your cousin might be?"

Zhen scooped a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth before answering.

"We were waiting for my mother and my grandparents to get through at Gringotts. I was trying to find my way back there, but got turned around in the crowds."

Harry nodded, sticking out his tongue to catch a drop of chocolate sauce that had spilled onto his chin.

"Why don't we try heading there first then?" Zhen nodded, her mouth full. Harry tipped his spoon to the right. "It's this way."

Harry started off and Zhen fell into step beside him. The two said nothing for some time, but the silence was comfortably filled with finishing off their sundaes. Zhen licked her lips and dropped her container in a nearby trash bin.

"Thanks again for helping me find my family, Harry."

"No problem." Harry licked his spoon and glanced at the girl beside him. "So how is it that you knew I was the seeker for Gryffindor?"

"Sorry that must have seemed a little strange," Zhen admitted, "but my grandfather is obsessed with quidditch. He's on good terms with Hogwarts' headmaster so he often goes to watch the games. He took me with him once last year when you were playing. Granddad says he's scoping out new talent, but Gran says he's just trying to relive his glory days."

"Did your grandfather play?"

"He was a chaser for Ravenclaw when he was at Hogwarts and actually went on to play professionally for a few years."

"Wow, that's pretty impressive."

"So is being picked as a seeker in your first year," Zhen reminded him as they paused to allow a buxom witch and her three children to pass. "Granddad says you were the youngest House player in over a century. That must have been quite an honour."

"Yeah, I suppose it was," Harry agreed. "Mostly I just thought of it as a lot of fun."

Zhen grinned.

"Agreed."

"Have you ever played?"

Zhen shook her head.

"No, but it looks like so much fun! I've always wanted to play. Granddad's been trying to get me on a broom since I was seven, but Gran wouldn't hear of it. Not until I'd had my first Hogwarts' flying lesson. She's quite the worrier."

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but snapped it shut at the sound of someone calling Zhen's name. A tall man with auburn hair was cutting his way through the crowds to their left, his amber eyes fixed anxiously on the small girl next to Harry. The crowds parted and the man ran the last dozen steps, skidding to a stop in front of Harry and scooping Zhen up into his arms. Zhen wrapped her arms around the man's neck, hugging him fiercely as the two spoke rapidly in the same language Zhen had spoken to Harry when they'd collided. Harry watched the pair uncomfortably. He wasn't sure whether to stay or leave. Zhen seemed to know the man and Harry didn't want to intrude, but he also wanted to be sure that Zhen was all right. However, his decision was made for him when a woman stopped beside him, smiling serenely.

"Did I not tell you that she would be fine, Xiao Lang? Diagon Alley is a safe place." The man holding Zhen mumbled something in reply and the woman's smile grew wider as she laid her hand on his shoulder and turned to Harry. "Hello. I don't believe we've met. Are you a friend of Zhen's?"

Harry's mind wouldn't work. He couldn't open his mouth, he couldn't form thoughts, he was fairly certain he couldn't even remember how to use his tongue. He'd never met anyone like this woman before. She was tall, as tall as the man holding Zhen, which Harry found strange for a woman. It might have made her intimidating except that her charcoal eyes were warm and gentle. Her ebony hair hung down to the middle of her back except for a few strands that had been pulled back from her face and fastened with a simple wooden clip carved in the shape of a flower blossom. Her skin was pale and it made the flush of her cheeks and the red of her lips seem brighter. She wore a simple pair of high-waisted emerald slacks and a white button-up blouse, but Harry could honestly say he'd never seen a more beautiful woman in all his life.

It wasn't her beauty that had him so tongue tied though, or at least, that wasn't all. She felt, well, for the lack of a better word, magical. But not magical in the way a wizard felt magical. It was more like how an object or a spell felt magical, more like the woman herself was magic, rather than was capable of casting magic. She was powerful too, whatever she was. Harry wondered if he should be alarmed, if maybe she was some magical creature sent by Voldemort to snatch him away. But she wasn't dangerous, at least not to him. How he knew that, Harry wasn't sure, but he did know. He was fairly certain it was something he was seeing in her eyes as she bent, offering him her hand as she introduced herself, apparently satisfied that Harry was not going to answer her question.

"My name is Lian Li. I am Zhen's mother and this man is Xiao Lang, my nephew."

"Harry," he managed, rallying valiantly as he gripped her smooth hand firmly. "My name is Harry Potter."

The woman blinked and Harry thought he saw some of the colour leave her cheeks as she let go of his hand.

"You're James and Lily's son." Harry nodded, his throat tightening at the mention of his parents, but instead of offering him condolences as most adults did, the woman's smile broadened. "It's wonderful to finally meet you, Harry."

"Harry was bringing me to find you, Mum," Zhen explained as Xiao Lang set her gently on her feet. "He's the quidditch player that Granddad is always talking about. I was hoping maybe I could introduce him. Where are Gran and Granddad?"

"They had some business to take care of with the goblins and told us to start our shopping without them," Lian explained, running her fingers through one of Zhen's pigtails absently. "Do you still have your list?" Zhen drew a familiar parchment from the pocket of her jumper and handed it to Lian. "Wonderful. We'd best get started. Your grandparents want to be back to the flat before its time for tea. They're expecting company after dinner."

"Can Harry come with us? I mean, if you want to, that is," Zhen clarified, turning to Harry. "You've already been to Hogwarts for your first year so you can help me find everything." She blushed. "And as you may have noticed, I don't know my way around very well."

"Uh, well, I don't know. I-I don't want to intrude."

"We'd love to have you join us, Harry," Lian assured him, smiling. "It's been a few years since I've been to Diagon Alley and a couple of the shops have moved. We'd welcome a guide until Zhen's grandparents finish up."

Harry nodded.

"All right then, if you're sure."

"Positive," Zhen confirmed, grinning. "Where shall we go first?"

"Your robes are taken care of. I dropped off your measurements at Madam Malkins as I left Gringotts," informed Lian, crossing off the items of clothing on Zhen's list of supplies. "We'll pick them up after the weekend."

Harry scanned the rows of shops in front of them, considering the items he knew would be on Zhen's list. She'd need books of course, a pewter cauldron, a telescope, supplies for potions, a familiar of some sort, perhaps a trunk if she didn't have one. Harry stopped short.

"Wait, you don't even have your wand yet, do you?" Zhen shook her head and Harry smiled. "This is the best part," he told her, leading her toward a very small shop near the bend. "When I came here to get my supplies for first year, Hagrid took me to get my wand last, but there's no reason why you can't do it first. It's incredible. Unlike anything you've ever done before." Harry stopped in front of the door, sensing Lian and Xiao Lang behind them. "Mr. Ollivander's. He's the best wandmaker in Diagon Alley."

"This is where your father got his first wand, Zhen," said Lian. "If I remember right, the store is very small. Why don't you and Harry go in? Xiao Lang and I will wait here."

"Ok," Zhen chirped and opened the door. "Come on Harry."

Harry looked back at Lian, wondering why she didn't want to go in with them. Most wizard parents wanted to be present when their child received their first wand. It was a milestone just like a muggle child getting their first car. However, when Lian caught his doubtful gaze she simply waved him inside. Harry shrugged mentally and complied. Wizarding families had different traditions, just like muggles. He only had to compare the Malfoy family to the Weasleys to understand that.

Passing through the door to Ollivander's Harry felt the same prick of magic as when he'd entered the shop two years ago with Hagrid. To his eyes, nothing had changed. The store was just as small, just as dusty, just as stale, and just as empty as it had been then. He wondered how it was that every eleven year old wizard needed a wand for the start of classes in September, yet there never seemed to be anyone here.

Harry vaguely registered the sound of a bell tinkling as Zhen let go of his hand and began turning slow circles in the middle of the small shop, her eyes darting across the thousands of narrow boxes stacked from floor to ceiling.

"It's amazing," she breathed, her brown eyes sparkling as she glanced at Harry. "I've never been in such a wonderful place. The magic here is so alive."

"You feel it too," Harry asked, surprised. Zhen nodded silently. "Strange, I thought I was the only one. When I asked my friends about it, none of them remembered feeling anything."

"Ah, Mister Potter, I hadn't expected to see you back so soon. I trust nothing's happened to that wand of yours."

"No, Mr. Ollivander," Harry replied quickly, unsurprised but still unnerved by the wispy man's sudden appearance, "it's right here."

Harry drew his wand and held it out for the wandmaker to see. The man plucked it gently from Harry's grasp and rolled it between his thin fingers slowly, his nose a hair's breadth from the glossy holly wood. Harry wasn't sure what the wandmaker's silver eyes were searching for, but he seemed pleased as he hummed conversationally. Every few syllables, there was a recognizable word like lithe, phoenix, balance, and centre, but Harry soon decided he wasn't meant to hear what the wandmaker was saying.

"As I said, Mr Potter, a very rare combination," Mr Ollivander murmured, returning the wand to Harry with a small smile. "And if I'm not mistaken you've already begun accomplishing some of those great things, hm?" Harry blushed and tucked his wand back in its holster up his left sleeve as the wandmaker turned his attention to Zhen, his silver eyes glowing in the dim light. "I had wondered whether the Ministry would allow you to attend, Miss Li. I've prepared a few of my more unusual wands for you to try. Your father was one of the most difficult wizard's I've ever wanded. Took us into the evening, but we managed." Mr Ollivander giggled as he moved behind the small desk that served as his shop counter. "Not to worry though. I love a challenge."

Mr Ollivander lifted a small stack of wand boxes up onto the desk, gesturing for Zhen to step forward. Harry watched as she was measured, puzzled by the wandmaker's words. Why would the ministry try to prevent Zhen from attending?

The first wand was seven inches, rosewood, with a unicorn hair core, but before Zhen had even raised it Ollivander had snatched it back, muttering something about it being completely wrong as he handed Zhen another. Twelve inches, mahogany, with a phoenix feather. Eight inches, birch, phoenix feather. Eight inches, oak, dragon heartstring. Ten inches, willow, unicorn hair. The small stack of boxes Ollivander had prepared dissipated quickly and the wandmaker took to flitting back and forth across the shop, removing boxes at random as far as Harry could tell.

After three long hours Zhen looked discouraged, but Mr Ollivander's cheeks were flushed with excitement as he ran his long fingers up one row and down another. Harry had taken the frail chair in the corner, deciding it was safer there after Mr Ollivander stepped on his foot three times in his awkward flight about the shop. He watched as the wandmaker lighted on the tall stool behind the desk, his chin in his hands as he stared at nothing. Zhen glanced at Harry uneasily and Harry did his best to smile encouragingly. Inwardly he was wondering if the wandmaker would have a wand for Zhen. As long as it had taken the peculiar wizard to find Harry's holly and phoenix feather wand he was certain it hadn't taken three hours.

Harry yawned and nearly bit off his tongue when Mr Ollivander leapt from his perch, shouting triumphantly.

"I know just the one! Wait right there, Miss Li," he instructed and without another word he was gone.

Zhen sighed and sat on the floor where she stood, her long pigtails pooling around her thighs. Harry glanced at the door to the back of the shop, hearing the faint scrapings of Mr Ollivander rummaging around just out of sight. The long wait for Zhen's wand had not been particularly enjoyable. However, it had given Harry time to ponder Mr Ollivander's strange statement about the Ministry letting Zhen attend Hogwarts. At first he told himself he should just ignore it. Then he thought he'd like to know, but that it would be too nosey to ask. Finally, he'd decided that since Mr Ollivander had said it in front of him it wouldn't be too horribly intrusive to at least ask. If Zhen didn't want to answer, then he wouldn't press, but it was far too strange a comment to ignore. Everyone in Britain, provided they were magical, got to go to Hogwarts.

"Zhen?" Harry paused, waiting for the girl to look at him before he continued. "I was wondering, what did Mr Ollivander mean when he said he wasn't sure the Ministry would let you go to Hogwarts? Why would the Ministry keep you from coming?"

"I wasn't born in Britain. I'm from Hong Kong. My grandparents moved there just after they were married when Granddad got a job working for one of the colonial branches of the Ministry and they've been there ever since. Because Hong Kong was a British colony, even though my father was born in Hong Kong he was a British citizen. He had no problems getting into Hogwarts." Harry nodded slowly, wishing he'd paid more attention during his history classes in primary school. "I'm a little different. My mum and dad never married, so even though my dad is British my mum is Chinese which means I'm technically a Chinese citizen. On top of that, Hong Kong isn't a colony any more it's a dependent state, meaning the people in Hong Kong are no longer under the sovereignty of Britain." Zhen tipped her head, nose scrunching as she squinted. "Or at least I think that's how Gran explained it. She and Granddad had to come here to the Ministry in Britain and petition for me to attend."

"Didn't you get a letter?"

"Oh yes, that's part of what Gran and Granddad used in their petition. Hogwarts still considered me eligible to attend. It was the Ministry that was the problem." Zhen giggled. "Apparently your headmaster arrived at the Ministry in the middle of my grandparents meeting with the Minister and pitched a royal fit."

Harry grinned, finding it odd to imagine Dumbledore 'pitching a fit.' Although, given how protective he was of his students, it wasn't completely out of character. Moreover, according to Ron Dumbledore had been well-known for his temper in his younger years. Harry only wished he could have been there to see Dumbledore tear a piece out of Fudge. There was something about the bulbous minister that Harry didn't like, aside from his horrid pin-striped robes.

"Here we are." Again Mr Ollivander appeared as if from thin air. As a wizard it wasn't out of the question, but given how noisy apparation was, it seemed unlikely. "I couldn't remember where I'd put it, but I'd wager this is just the wand." The wandmaker held out a ratty looking box, blowing the film of cobwebs off the edges as Zhen stood. Zhen sneezed and Mr Ollivander slid the top off the box. "As interesting a combination as your father's. His was ash, eleven inches, with a phoenix feather core."

Harry moved closer and peered over Zhen's shoulder. The wand was exquisite.

"Cherry wood, nine inches, dragon heartstring core," the wandmaker clarified. He frowned, fidgeting slightly as he glanced at Zhen. "To be truthful, it wasn't made by me. It was here when I inherited the shop. I'm not so skilled at carving as whoever made this wand. I asked my grandfather about it as he'd owned the shop before me, but he was as mystified as I am."

Zhen stared at the wand, but made no move to touch it. Her face was ashen and her eyes were fixed on the delicate blossoms carved into the hilt of the wand. They were so detailed Harry was certain he could see the veins of each petal and every blemish on the spindly branches they were fixed to. They looked a little like apple blossoms.

"What are those flowers, Mr Ollivander?"

"Sakura," Zhen whispered. "Cherry blossoms."

"Good eye my dear. Fitting for a wand made of cherry wood, wouldn't you say?" Zhen nodded wordlessly. "Well now, go on, give it a good swish."

Zhen reached for the wand and her hands shook. Harry wondered why she seemed nervous. She hadn't been shy about taking any of the other wands Mr Ollivander had offered. He wondered if maybe this wasn't the right wand after all. Surely she wouldn't be afraid to touch her own wand. But it was. The instant Zhen's fingertips touched the wand a brilliant flash of light blossomed from the end, enveloping the entire shop, and blinding Harry for an instant. When he could see again Harry saw that Mr Ollivander was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"Just the wand indeed."

Zhen smiled at the wandmaker's assurance, more at ease as she placed the wand back in its box with a steady hand. She glanced back at Harry as Mr Ollivander began writing out her slip.

"You were right, Harry, that was incredible!"

Mr Ollivander chuckled.

"The wrong wand is worse than wearing rubbers two sizes too small." He slid the wand box into a small paper bag and handed it to Zhen, slipping the coins she gave him in return into his pocket. "There you are."

"Thank you Mr Ollivander."

"You're welcome Miss Li. Now, I expect both of you to look after those wands. No telling what you might come up against." The wandmaker paused, his rheumy eyes suddenly distant as Harry and Zhen left the shop. "Or who."

The wandmaker's last words gave Harry a chill, but he had little time to consider them as he was abruptly accosted by a towering wizard with a trim grey beard and a firm handshake.

"There you are, Mr Potter! I was afraid you and Zhen had scuttled off somewhere without my noticing." Harry returned the man's handshake, craning his neck upward to see the man's face. "Pleasure to meet you, the name is Hayward Parish. I'm Zhen's grandfather and I must say I've been looking forward to meeting you for some time. You've quite the talent for quidditch. Best I've seen in a good half century."

"T-thank you, sir," Harry managed, flexing his fingers as the elder wizard released his hand. "Zhen tells me you're an avid follower of the game."

"Avid is putting it mildly, Mr Potter. Obsessive might be more accurate." Hayward Parish stepped aside and a smiling woman with silver hair and bronze spectacles reached for Harry's hand. "I'm Hayward's wife, Sylvia. Don't let him badger you. Hayward tends to forget himself when he becomes excited."

Mr Parish scowled.

"Now, see here, Sylvia don't exaggerate. You'll have the boy thinking I'm some loon."

"What a shame that would be," Mrs Parish commented wryly, her brown eyes dancing.

Harry smiled, enjoying their banter, but he was definitely relieved when he felt Zhen standing at his elbow.

"Sorry Harry, I had to give my package to Mum. Didn't mean to throw you into the deep end first off. They can be a bit overwhelming."

"Your own grandparents? Overwhelming? Well, I never heard the like, did you Sylvia?"

"Of course not dear, although you do realize she was talking about you."

Mr Parish's scowl deepened, but his eyes twinkled as he took his wife's hand and kissed it, a smile easing the lines of his face as he turned back to Zhen and Harry.

"Now, what say we have a bite to eat? I don't about the rest of you, but I'm famished."

"That's a wonderful idea, Hayward," Lian agreed as she joined them, Zhen's wand bag in hand. "What about that little place you were telling us about this morning over breakfast?"

"Splendid idea, my girl, just splendid," Hayward bellowed, offering one arm to Sylvia and the other to Lian. "Come along, Mister Potter. You and I shall discuss the finer points of quidditch over a roast pheasant sweeter than sugar candy, and perhaps a butterbeer or two so long as you promise not to tell your old headmaster. Dumbledore would skin me alive if he knew I was letting you into it before your first trip to Hogsmeade."

Harry felt it would probably be polite to decline, but was surprised to find he didn't want to. Few wizarding families excepting the Weasleys had made him feel at ease, but Harry found himself quite comfortable with Zhen's family, in spite of her grandfather's boisterous mannerisms. Thus, when Zhen looped her arm through his, steering him after her grandfather, he followed without protest. He was soon very thankful he had. Harry was certain he'd never eaten so much good food in one sitting in all his life, including the feasts at Hogwarts. The pheasant was sweet, the vegetable's fresh, and the butterbeer plentiful. Not to mention the wonderful tarts and puddings that had followed.

As they ate, Zhen's grandfather regaled them with tales of his years at Hogwarts, his wife chiming in with cutting comments when she felt his chest was puffing a bit much. Lian had tales to tell as well, tales of her first excursions into the wizarding world of Britain, one of which sent her back to Hong Kong with magenta hair. Harry's sides ached from too much laughter and too much good food. He honestly could not remember the last time he'd had so much fun. Seated between Zhen and her grandfather his conversations had alternated between discussing the finer points of quidditch and describing Hogwarts, two of Harry's favourite topics. Even after an hour had passed, Harry was loath to leave the table when Lian reminded them they still had some shopping to do before they went home.

Again Harry was invited to join them and this time he felt no guilt in accepting their invitation, having been assured by Mr Parish that if the family didn't want Harry with them, they wouldn't have made the offer. Zhen in particular seemed pleased with his company, confiding in him as her mother paid for her telescope that she'd spent the last month afraid she might not make friends in Britain. Harry assured her that wouldn't be the case. Hogwarts was a very friendly place, as long as you gave the Slytherins a wide berth, and if nothing else she was welcome to spend time with him and his friends. He then proceeded to tell her about Ron, Hermione, Neville and Ginny, leaving out the rather exciting details of his first two years involving the Sorcerer's Stone and the Chamber of Secrets for fear of scaring her off.

Next the Parishes led them to the apothecary. Lian and Harry helped Zhen to select the supplies needed for her first year of Potions while Zhen's grandmother selected some of the more interesting items in the shop that even Harry had yet to use. Her list was long and the shopkeeper left them more or less to themselves as he scrambled to find the items Mrs Parish had requested.

"Sylvia is a formidable brewer," Lian informed Harry when she caught him watching the elder witch. "I expect she'd put even your potions master at Hogwart's to shame, but don't tell him I said so."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Harry assured her, shaking his head vigorously. "Snape already hates me enough as it is."

Lian dropped the little wooden scoop into the pot-bellied jar she'd been measuring out of.

"You wouldn't mean Severus Snape, by any chance?"

Harry blinked, startled.

"Uh, yeah, why?"

"Was he a friend of Dad's," Zhen inquired quickly as she filled another packet from a small drawer near the floor. "I've never heard you mention him before."

Lian picked the scoop up out of the jar and blew the dust off its handle.

"I suppose you might call him a friend. They were at Hogwart's together, although your father was a couple years ahead of him. It seems Severus had some trouble with a group of bullies, one of which I'm sorry to say was your father, Harry. Your father stood up for Severus, Zhen. They were never close, but I think they were friends, at least as much as anyone could be a friend to Severus. He's a very private man and sour-natured on his best of days, although he does have his good points."

Harry frowned.

"I don't believe my Dad would ever hurt anyone. You're wrong about him," he snapped defensively. "He couldn't have been a bully."

"I'm afraid he was, Harry, but then, he was only a teenage boy. James changed a great deal before his death. He was a good man, but he was still only that, Harry, a man. And no man is perfect."

Suddenly Harry became intensely interested in his sneakers and his cheeks grew hot. He knew as much as he wanted the image he'd created of his parents to be real, it wasn't. He'd never known them, not really. Lian was right. They couldn't have been perfect, but they had both died to protect him. Nothing would change that.

Harry glanced at Zhen, wondering what she must think of him for talking back to her mother, but she was on the far side of the shop, helping her grandmother to fill a small vile with florescent liquid. He looked up at Lian.

"Do you think that's why Snape hates me then? Because of what Dad did to him?"

Lian set the lid back on the jar she'd been scooping from and ruffled Harry's hair, smiling.

"Severus doesn't hate you, Harry, of that I'm certain, even if it seems like it sometimes. Try to give him a chance, hm?"

Harry found it hard to say no as Lian held his gaze, so he didn't. Instead he asked a question.

"Did you know my father?"

Lian nodded, laying her hand on his shoulder and leading him toward the counter where Zhen and her grandmother were fitting the last of their items into the bags.

"I did, Harry. I knew both your parents, actually, and some day you and I will sit down and talk about them, if you'd like. There are certainly those that knew them better than I did, but I'd be happy to tell you anything I can."

"I'd like that very much," Harry managed past the sudden tightness in his throat, "a-and I'm sorry, for what I said earlier."

Lian squeezed his shoulder, passing her small pouches to the shopkeeper.

"Think nothing of it, Harry. We all do our best to protect the ones we love, even after they're gone."

"I'm the same with my Dad," Zhen offered quietly, reappearing beside Harry. Harry opened his mouth to ask what she meant, but closed it without saying anything. He wasn't sure how to phrase the question without feeling like he was prying. Luckily Zhen answered him anyway. "His name was Richard Parish and he disappeared before I was born, a few months after the end of you-know-who. Some people say he just got scared and left, that he was a coward. I don't believe them and get cross when I hear people say bad things about him. I'm proud of him and I want others to be too. I understand."

Harry smiled sadly, knowing that she really did. He found it odd that such a random encounter, a collision on a busy street with a young girl from Hong Kong, could have brought him in contact with people that knew his parents and understood his loss. More importantly, they didn't treat him with that crippling reverence that was so common among wizards and witches that had survived the First War. Mr Parish praised him, to be sure, but that was for his abilities on the quidditch pitch, not for bringing about the death of some evil overlord before his second birthday.

It was actually kind of nice to have someone notice him for something that wasn't related in any way to Voldemort and to find wizards that treated him like an average person. The Weasleys were wonderful, but Mr And Mrs Weasley worried about him overmuch. Their concern and care for him were touching, but a bit overwhelming for someone who'd never had anyone give a flying flip what he did, said, or felt before his eleventh birthday.

Zhen and her family were different. He was just a boy, a new acquaintance of Zhen's, along for a day's shopping. Nothing more. Nothing less. He felt included, but not coddled or watched. He was free to go or stay, although the very fact that he had such freedom made him want to stay as they made their way to the last shop of the day.

Flourish and Blotts was another of Harry's favourite shops. He could only imagine what an incredible wizard he'd be if he managed to read all of the books inside, although Hermione probably already had. After picking up Zhen's required texts they spent some time skimming the remaining titles. Harry once again looked longingly at Professor Vindictus Veridian's _Curses and Countercurses _thinking not only of Dudley, but of Malfoy as well. Zhen laughed when he opened the book to the jellylegs curse and in return she showed him a book about dragons. She chose the book on dragons and several others that were not required for her classes at Hogwarts. So many in fact that Harry offered to help carry them after her entire stack nearly toppled onto the floor.

"Why do you have so many extra books, if you don't mind me asking?" Zhen added _Hogwarts a History_ to Harry's pile. "You won't need this book on runes for a few years, although I can understand your interest in the one about the history of quidditch. It just seems like an awful lot."

Zhen paused, shifting the books against her chest as a large leather-bound volume on duelling began to slip.

"I guess I'm a little afraid that I'll be behind or that I won't be able to keep up. I wasn't born in Britain and English isn't my first language. I speak it quite well, but I'm a very slow reader."

Harry followed her to the counter.

"Don't worry about that. A lot of the students at Hogwarts are muggle-born and they don't even know the wizarding world exists until they get their letter." Zhen looked unconvinced. "My friend Hermione is a muggle-born and she's at the top of our class. She reads night and day, but still, I promise you won't be behind."

Zhen smiled at him gratefully, setting her pile on the counter.

"Have you got everything you wanted Zhen?"

Lian stood waiting patiently as Harry slid his stack on the counter.

"Well, really I want them all, but I think this will be enough for now."

"I really need to introduce you to Hermione," said Harry. "As much as you both love books I bet you'd get along famously."

Zhen laughed and took one of the bags from her mother as they left the shop.

Zhen's grandparents were waiting across the street, Mr Parish laden with parcels as Mrs Parish spoke quietly with Xiao Lang. The man hadn't spoken two words to Harry all day, although Harry got the impression that his silence wasn't so much an intentional slight as that he didn't have anything in particular to say. His expression was serious, but not unkind. At first his silent presence was unnerving for Harry, but as the day wore on he'd grown used to it. He even found it comforting in a way.

"Xiao Lang, could you carry this bag for me, please?"

The man smiled and reached for Zhen's bag of books. She'd been the only one to get him to smile all day.

"Why is it you are always buying more than what you can carry?"

"Because if I didn't you'd have nothing to do when we went shopping," Zhen replied cheekily.

Xiao Lang chuckled and shook his head, glancing at Harry as he laid his free arm over Zhen's shoulders. Harry nodded and Xiao Lang returned the gesture, the man's small smile still in place as Zhen chattered about all the books she and Harry had seen.

"Well Mr Potter, I fear we must take our leave of you. We've guests arriving just after dinner and Sylvia will want to make sure that every dust bunny is in its proper corner." Mr Parish grinned when his wife arched a brow at him. "I'd shake your hand, but as you can see my hands are full."

"I take no offense, sir, and it was a pleasure meeting you. Thank you for lunch and for inviting me along for the day."

"Not at all," the tall wizard assured him. "Perhaps we'll see you again in a couple of weeks."

"Bye Harry!"

Harry looked beyond Mr Parish and saw Zhen waving at him vigorously from her newfound position on Xiao Lang's back. Apparently he'd been cajoled into carrying more than parcels. Harry smiled and waved back as the pair disappeared around the bend, the Parishes following close behind them. Lian lingered for a moment, rearranging her packages until Zhen called to her from around the bend. She glanced back at Harry and waved, smiling warmly.

"Take care, Harry."

Harry stood long after the small family had disappeared from sight, feeling strangely alone in a way he hadn't when he woke up that morning. The idea of going back to his room at the Leaky Cauldron with Hedwig was suddenly unappealing. Instead he turned back the way they'd come and went in to Mr Fortescue's ice cream parlour, smiling at the sight of the all the children shovelling ice cream coated with toppings into their mouths. Two more weeks and he'd be at Hogwarts with all his friends, including Zhen, he decided. Besides, being alone was certainly preferable to life with the Dursleys.

"Ah, Mr Potter. Did you manage to help that girl find her folks?"

"I did, Mr Fortescue."

The elder wizard nodded absently as he flicked his wand and stopped a scoop of ice cream that a boy had launched off his spoon mid-air. Having been caught, the boy returned to his sundae sheepishly. Mr Fortescue dropped the ice cream into the trash and smiled at Harry.

"Glad to hear it. Heroing is mighty hard work though and I would imagine you've worked up a fierce appetite. You up for another sundae?"

Harry grinned as he flipped open his textbook.

"I thought you'd never ask."

* * *

Minerva McGonagall was a woman of great composure and confidence. Thus she was surprised to find her hands trembling as she fastened a long sleeveless robe over her black dress. She eyed her favourite emerald dress that hung tucked away at the back of her wardrobe, but found as she had since the opening of the Chamber of Secrets, that black somehow seemed more comfortable. Her only and first concession since was the knitted sage robe she was wearing now. Somehow the pending meeting with one of the heads of the most powerful magical families in the east made it seem appropriate. Why she didn't know, only that it did.

In the week since she had received the letter from Yelan Li she had spent every free moment reading about eastern magic and its practitioners. She had learned a lot, beginning with the fact that unlike Britain, magic-users in the east were not referred to as wizards and witches, but sorcerers and sorceresses. They did not use wands. Nor was magic regulated by a centralized democratic council like the Ministry of Magic. Instead the magical community was ruled by a number of powerful clans, some of them thousands of years old. Their magic stemmed from the use of numerous traditional elements like fire, water, wood, metal, earth, and air and unlike the magical population of Britain they did not use their magic for everyday tasks. In the east magic, like swordplay, was a thing of war, a sacred tradition, and not to be wielded lightly.

Yet, at the same time, it was something their children were trained in from the time they could walk. Perhaps the thing that had surprised Minerva the most was realizing that this girl, Zhen Li, would already be considered a sorceress of enough proficiency to go to battle if the need arose. At eleven. The thought of it set Minerva's teeth on edge, as did the severity of the martial arts training that Zhen would also have undoubtedly received. It seemed these children were never given the chance to be children and she wondered how a child so stern and disciplined would respond to the lively atmosphere of Hogwarts' first year students. Not to mention the added responsibility of sealing the Clow Cards, about which Minerva had found an unsatisfactory amount of information.

The flames in the grate of her fireplace flickered and then roared to life, casting an eerie green light against the stones of the hearth as Albus Dumbledore stepped out.

"Ready, Minerva?"

Minerva lifted her hat from its hook on the back of her bedroom door and strode into the outer room, still fussing with the button of her robe.

"I'm ready, Albus," she stated, drawing a deep breath and releasing it slowly. "I can't tell you why but this meeting has got me feeling as if I'm sitting on a pin cushion. I'll be glad to have it over and done with."

The old wizard smiled.

"Come now, there is nothing to be feared, only understood."

Minerva frowned petulantly.

"That's a load of rubbish and you know it, Albus." She glanced in the mirror beside the door to her quarters, tipping her hat slightly more to the left. "Moreover, I'm not afraid, I'm just," Minerva hesitated. "Just, well, I don't know what I am! But I certainly am not afraid."

"As you say," Albus conceded, smiling that infuriatingly knowing smile that made Minerva cross in a heartbeat. "Shall we then?"

Miverva nodded curtly and the wizard tipped a handful of floo powder into his hand from the ornate pitcher on the corner of her mantel. He backed into the hearth, tossed the powder and called,

"Parish Hall, Coventry."

With a whoosh the headmaster disappeared and with a determined frown Minerva strode forward, palmed the floo powder, and repeated the address. She felt the familiar vertigo of travelling by floo and sneezed as she stepped out of the hearth and into an entryway with vaulted ceilings. Albus offered her his hand with an apologetic glance and Minerva accepted both as she stepped over the grate, unable to stay mad at the elder wizard for something as trivial as butterflies in her stomach.

"Headmaster, Professor, my apologies. I'd meant to have that grate moved before you arrived." Minerva turned to the towering warlock that entered the hall from an ornate archway to their right, dabbing his mouth with a silk napkin as he strode toward them. "We spent the afternoon in Diagon Alley getting some of Zhen's supplies and then stopped off at the flat to collect a few things before making our way to the manor. I fear the time got away from us."

"Not at all, Hayward, and what's this business of titles? If you insist on calling me by mine, I shall have to refer to you as Lord Parish."

The tall warlock made a dreadful face, discarding his napkin on the corner of a narrow mahogany table as he reached for Albus' hand and shook it.

"Don't you dare, Albus, or your students will return to find a pigeon where their headmaster once sat."

Minerva raised a brow at that and smiled inwardly. Few were the wizards and witches that could comfortably joke in such a manner with Albus Dumbledore. Most knew better than to think themselves so powerful and the jokes were forced. This man seemed quite at ease and for a half second Minerva actually wondered whether he _could_ turn Albus into a pigeon.

Using a quick charm to rid herself of the filmy floo powder, Minerva took a moment to study the wizard in front of her. He was tall, well past six feet, towering over Albus as the two men quickly fell into talk of quidditch and candies. He might have been a very handsome man except that his facial features were slightly too large for the size of his head. However, his warm smile and frosted blue eyes drew enough attention from the disproportion to make it hardly noticeable.

His long grey hair was pinned neatly at the nape of his neck in a silver clasp the shape of a crescent moon that matched the silver rims of his half-moon spectacles. He wore a pair of loose black slacks and a loose silk robe with silver storks in flight across the front. The top clasps had been left unfastened, revealing a white shirt with a navy tie undone and draped over his shoulders. On his feet he wore a pair of black silk slippers and at first glance his attire was completely at odds with the respected auror she knew the man to be. That was until Minerva remembered that Hayward Parish had lived in Hong Kong for the better part of the last fifty years.

"This is my colleague Minerva McGonagall, professor of transfiguration and Deputy Headmistress at Hogwarts," Albus introduced, pulling Minerva from her thoughts. "Minerva, this is Hayward Parish, a former auror and I'm pleased to say, my dear friend."

Minerva smiled tightly, not yet at ease as she shook the wizard's hand.

"A pleasure to meet you, Lord Parish," she offered. The man frowned, brow raised, and Minerva gathered he expected her to amend his title. "Hayward, then."

The man smiled broadly.

"Much better, now – may I call you Minvera?" Minerva nodded. "Wonderful. May I take you to the solarium and summon you both a spot of tea and something to eat? We were just preparing some things for our own dessert when you arrived."

"That would be fine, thank you," Albus assured the man, answering for the both of them. "If you have a spot of ginger for the tea, I would welcome it."

"Nym?" A resounding pop announced the appearance of a house elf, which strangely enough, was fully clothed. "Would you mind popping off to the kitchen to tell Sylvia that our guests from Hogwarts have arrived? And please see to it that there is ginger for the Headmaster."

"Of course, sir," the small creature answered with a smile, disappearing as quickly as she'd come.

Hayward Parish caught Minerva's quizzical gaze and chuckled.

"The use of house elves in Hong Kong is forbidden unless they are free." Minerva's eyes widened in surprise as Hayward led them through the archway to their left. "Every house elf in our employ is clothed and compensated for their work. They even have vacations. Sylvia was quite active in the rights of magical creatures movement begun by some of the clans in Hong Kong after the Queen relinquished her claim on the island."

Minerva couldn't think of a reply, but was relieved of the task when Albus asked how the tensions between Hong Kong and mainland China were progressing in the absence of British influence. Little interested in the politics of the Pacific, Minerva found her eyes scouring every inch of the Parish mansion as she followed silently after Albus. The room they'd entered off the entryway was a sitting room with the same vaulted ceilings, mahogany floors, and airy atmosphere. Unlike many of the wizarding mansions she'd been in, Parish Hall was open, bright, and welcoming, the rooms filled with windows, colourful paintings, live flowers, and tasteful furniture.

During their walk to the solarium Minerva counted more than a dozen rooms branching off the two hallways they walked, with another four hallways leading off in various directions. There was a library – the size of which rivalled Hogwarts' – a den, a small room filled with garden implements and a door that opened onto a walkway lined with sunflowers, a room empty except for walls covered in tapestries, a washroom, a ballroom, a small office, a dining room and more. She'd known the Parish family was wealthy, but she could only imagine both the wealth and dedication it had taken a dozen generations of wizards to create such a home as she entered the solarium.

"It's quite impressive, isn't it?"

Minerva started at the sound of Hayward Parish's voice. She hadn't realized she'd lingered in the doorway. Slightly embarrassed, she nodded, not used to letting her curiosity rule her. The elder wizard simply smiled, rubbing at his trim beard absently.

"Our home is actually open to the wizarding public three afternoons a week. Nym and Wisp do a wonderful job of telling our family's history and there are a number of rooms with museum-quality artefacts. My thrice-great grandfather was a wizard archaeologist and a lot of these artefacts were found by him.

"Then when Riddle was making such a mess of things, I allowed families to use this building as a safe house to store their valuables. There are as many things muggle as magical here. After the war, with so many of the owners dead, many of the families simply bequeathed the objects to the Parish estate. Too many bad memories attached to them I gather. It's required a number of major expansions to the Hall. There's not a scritch more magical room to be found within these old walls, unless we start building upwards and add towers like Hogwarts."

"No wonder this place is ticklish with magic," Minerva observed dryly as she took the chair next to Albus.

Hayward laughed.

"Noticed that did you? Yes, between the artefacts, the magical additions, and all the wards put in place to protect it all, it's a wonder the muggles haven't started banging on the doors demanding answers."

Minerva smiled, somehow put at ease by Hayward Parish's rambling. The serenity of the solarium did not go unnoticed either. The solarium was located on the western side of the building, all windows from waist to ceiling, with a floor of flagstones. Beautiful vines spotted with vibrant blossoms crept around the room, their aroma sweet and soothing as a cool summer's breeze whispered through some of the skylights, keeping the room's temperature pleasant. The setting sun cast shadows through the trees that stood sentry in the room's four corners and Minerva found herself thinking that the only thing needed for her nerves to finally settle was a spot of tea.

As if in answer, four tea trays popped into existence on the low table at the centre of the circle of chairs, one of them tipping due to its proximity to an ottoman. Hayward quickly charmed the tray and its contents still.

"That would be Wisp. The poor creature has served my family since I was a boy and he never has been able to have things appear in quite their proper place." Hayward left his chair across from Albus and knelt at the table. "Tea, with ginger and one teaspoon of sugar, yes Albus?" Albus nodded. "And for you, Minerva?"

"I'll have the same, without the ginger, thank you."

Hayward nodded, passing them their cups. Minerva sipped at hers blissfully, noting the sound of a muggle doorbell in the distance. Voices echoed through the hallways, slowly growing closer and moments after the bell had rung a man entered, following yet another clothed house elf.

"Eriol Hiiragizawa as expected sir," the elf chirped, his voice warbly. "If it pleases you, I will go and fetch Mistress Zhen. She asked to be told when Master Hiiragizawa had arrived."

"Of course, Wisp, thank you."

The elf disappeared and the man stood, smiling secretively, his grey eyes twinkling beneath his glasses in a way that reminded Minerva very much of Albus. He was dressed in long black robes typical of western wizard, but Minerva sensed immediately that the young man was not as he seemed. Her stomach twisted in his presence. His magic was powerful and there was a taint of darkness to it that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Hayward stood and motioned the young man forward.

"Headmaster Albus Dumbledore and Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall, this is a dear friend of the Li family, Eriol Hiiragizawa." The man bowed slightly in greeting and Minerva inclined her head in return. Hayward looked to Minerva as he continued, as if sensing her unease. "I assure you he is not here without cause. You see, Eriol is the reincarnation of the creator of the Clow Cards, Clow Reed."

"Partial reincarnation, actually," Eriol clarified with a smile. "I have Clow Reed's memories and his knowledge."

Minerva hoped she didn't look as flabbergasted as she felt. Reincarnation was something all wizards were familiar with in theory, but she'd never seen the results of it. It was, she understood, a gruelling magical process, one she certainly hoped never to experience. However, the revelation did explain why the young man felt so much older than he appeared. Eriol turned to Albus, extending his hand.

"I am pleased to meet you, Headmaster. Having lived in England's wizarding community for most of my life, I'm familiar with your many accomplishments and admire your skill. I particularly enjoyed reading your work on the seven uses for dragon's blood."

"Why thank you, I—

Albus stopped abruptly at the sound of running in the hallway, turning toward the doorway. Minerva had to admit that whatever she'd been expecting of Zhen Li it was not the child that came pelting into the room, laughing as she launched herself into Eriol Hiiragizawa's open arms. Her wide brown eyes danced and she squealed with laughter as Eriol lifted her off her feet and swung her in circles. Her long black hair sailed behind her like two long streamers and she buried her face against Eriol's chest as the man spun her faster. Her giggles brought a smile to Minerva's lips without her consent.

Zhen was small for her age. Minerva could see that even at a distance. Her face, when she finally lifted her head was slender, high cheekbones and cream skin hinting at the beautiful woman she would one day become as Eriol deposited her on the floor.

"It's good to see you are well, my cute little descendent," Eriol said with a smile, pressing a kiss to the girl's temple when he finally stopped spinning. "I've missed you."

The girl kissed his cheek.

"I've missed you too, Eriol-sama."

The man smiled, clearly pleased.

"Have you met your Headmaster and professor yet?" Zhen glanced at Minerva and shook her head mutely. Eriol drew her forward, hunched so that he was closer to her height as he introduced them each in turn. "This is your headmaster, Albus Dumbledore and this is Minerva McGonagall, your transfiguration professor."

Zhen smiled brightly, bowing formally.

"Welcome to my grandparents' home, Headmaster, Professor. I thank you for honouring us with your presence."

"The honour is ours, my dear," Albus replied, eyes twinkling as he winked at the child. "And who may I ask is this young man?"

Zhen blinked, puzzled as she followed the direction of Albus wizened finger to the doorway where a young man with serious amber eyes stood watching. Zhen's smile broadened and she ran to the man, tugging at his hand insistently when he resisted her efforts.

"This is my cousin, Xiao Lang," Zhen replied. "He's helping me to capture the Clow Cards."

The young man bowed respectfully, but said nothing, his flaming cheeks betraying his composure. He was not comfortable being the centre of attention.

"Xiao Lang has also served as Zhen's protector during our travels," Lian Li explained as she entered, moving with doe-like grace. "It is so good to see you again, Minerva, Albus. It has been too many years."

"Indeed," seconded Albus, "although we had all hoped that you and Richard would return together. I am sorry to hear that he is still missing."

Lian nodded silently, outwardly calm, but Minerva caught the spark of pain in her dark eyes as she knelt and began busying herself with pouring tea, offering a cup to Xiao Lang and Eriol before taking one for herself.

"It has not been easy, for any of us," Lian replied finally as she took her seat. "But Zhen and I have been blessed with a wonderful family. My sister and her children have welcomed us into their home and Sylvia and Hayward and been wonderful. Preparing Zhen to come to Hogwarts would have been much harder without them."

Hayward Parish reached out and squeezed Lian's shoulder as he stood, kissing her temple affectionately.

"It has been our delight to have you both, Lian, believe me," the elder wizard assured her, his eyes inexplicably moist. He cleared his throat and continued more enthusiastically. "Now, seeing as all the introductions have been made, I'll pop off to the kitchen and have a bit of tea with Sylvia."

"Hey! Not everyone around here has been introduced, Gramps." Minerva blinked, startled by the irate voice and looked for its source. Hayward Parish chuckled as he left and Xiao Lang frowned. "Why does everyone forget me?"

"No one has forgotten you, Kero," Zhen assured the voice, which Minerva soon realized belonged to a small teddy bear – like creature with a long tail and small wings that was standing on Zhen's knee. "But you were supposed to keep quiet until after we'd had a chance to talk to the professors."

"I've been quiet all day long," the creature whined. "It was torture seeing all that good food in Diagon Alley and not being able to eat any of it."

Beside her Albus' laughter rumbled deep in his chest.

"And who might this little one be?"

The creature in question turned and flew to Albus, extending a tiny paw to the headmaster.

"I'm Kero, but you may know me better as Keroberos, the guardian of the Clow Cards."

"I'd somehow imagined you somewhat larger," Albus admitted, winking at Lian.

The little creature flew in Albus' face.

"Just cuz I don't look like much in this form doesn't mean that I'm not a powerful guardian. Just wait til Zhen gets the last element card and I'll show you!"

"Element card," Minerva wondered aloud.

"Keroberos' gains his power from the cards themselves and from the sun," Eriol explained. "Without all four of the element cards, his powers are reduced and he is forced to remain in this borrowed form."

"Which tends to make him a little high-strung and a lot cranky," Xiao Lang deadpanned.

"Shut it, brat!"

Zhen giggled and Lian sighed.

"Keroberos, if you please," Lian prompted quietly. "I do not believe Zhen's professors came to listen to you complain."

The small guardian rubbed the back of his head and Minerva was almost certain he was blushing beneath his fur as he flew back to Zhen and slipped into her pocket. Xiao Lang shook his head, taking a seat near the far wall and pulling Zhen up onto his lap when the girl stood in front of him expectantly. Zhen settled against him, her head nestled in the crook of Xiao Lang's shoulder and the man wrapped his left arm around her protectively, the man seeming to take as much comfort from the action as the child.

"Well, shall we begin then?" Everyone nodded and Lian looked beside her to Eriol. "Eriol, I thought you might be best suited to answer any of the questions Albus and Minerva may have regarding the cards themselves."

Eriol shifted in his seat slightly, his expression serious as he looked at the witch and wizard across from him.

"Of course, what would you like to know?"

Albus seemed content to keep quiet, forcing Minerva to speak, which she was sure was his intention.

"I guess I would appreciate it if you could explain to me exactly what these cards are."

Eriol's smile returned, his expression reminding her of the cat that had swallowed the canary.

"The Clow Cards are powerful magical spells that stem from the system of magical elements used by the eastern sorcerers. Each card is under the dominion of one of the four elements, wind, water, fire, and earth. They are further divided into two categories, light or dark, placing them either under the guidance of the sun or the moon. However, Clow Reed was able to combine these basic elements with more complicated spells from western wizardry, removing the natural limitations that are placed on elemental magic.

"The Clow Cards give eastern elemental magic the flexibility of western spells and give western spells the ancient potency of elemental magic that is often impossible to achieve with western magic. Although there are of course exceptions to everything I've just said. Both Clow Reed and myself were able to combine these magics without the aid of the Clow Cards and if I'm not mistaken you, headmaster, are more capable of manipulating elemental spells than most wizards." Albus inclined his head slightly in agreement. Eriol turned back to Minerva. "Does that answer your question professor?"

"Yes, thank you," Minerva replied wondering how it was that such powerful magic was relatively unknown in the western world. "I do have another, if you don't mind." Eriol nodded. "What is this business of the cards needing to be sealed?"

"The cards are magic, pure magic, and as such are capable of surviving on their own without someone re-casting the spell that created them, much like your corporeal patronus'. It's what makes the cards so easy to use. Once they're released their power is yours to use for as long as your magic can sustain them. Yet, that's the draw back as well. Without a sorcerer's seal, the cards are free to do as they wish. Unlike a patronus Clow Reed gave each card a will of its own and they often appear as spirit-like apparitions. Unless bound by a sorcerer's magic the cards will obey no one. However, once they are bound, they will obey every command given, but only if those commands are given by the sorcerer that sealed them."

Minerva nodded, eyes flicking to Zhen. All that power, all that responsibility, in the hands of a child? She shook her head. It wasn't right.

"Correct me if I've misinterpreted things, Mr Hirragizawa," Albus paused, sipping his tea as the young sorcerer waited for him to continue, "but it was my understanding from the letter we received that the cards are not currently sealed?" Eriol nodded, frowning. "And it is Miss Li's task to find them and seal them?"

"When the former master, Sakura Kinimoto died, she chose one, the chosen one, whose magic would be able to release the seal that was to keep the cards from escaping," Lian explained. "Once that seal was released, so was the guardian of the cards, Keroberos. He then gave to Zhen the key which would form the sealing staff. Anyone can find and capture the cards, but only Zhen has the staff that will seal them."

"And just how is it that such powerful magic was set loose on the world," Minerva inquired. "Is there no way to keep this from happening?"

"Sakura's death was unexpected." Lian's voice was quiet, barely more than a whisper. "Even with all our gifts neither my clan nor Eriol foresaw the death of the Clow Mistress."

"When the cards are without a master they are vulnerable," Eriol continued, his expression pained. "The guardians Clow Reed created to guard them are sealed with the cards and cannot protect them until the cards are released. If anything happens to them in those few moments between the awakening of the cards and the awakening of Keroberos..."

His voice trailed off.

It was clear to Minerva that the subject of Sakura Kinimoto was painful for all of those present. Much to her surprise it was the diminutive guardian Keroberos that continued, his manner grave as he flew to the centre of the room.

"When the cards were released the first time Sakura used their magic, unaware that she had magical powers. They were dispersed throughout her hometown and I chose her to find them, unaware at the time that it was her destiny to do so."

"And this time?"

"It was me." Minerva's gaze shifted to Xiao Lang as the young man spoke, his amber eyes bright with unshed tears and guilt. "After Sakura's death the cards were given to me to guard. Zhen found them and the seal released them at her touch. It should have been easy. She should have been able to just accept the contract to protect the cards and then go on to face the final judgement, but I-I panicked." Tears leaked from the young man's eyes. "When I felt the seal break I ran and when I opened the door a cross draft blew the cards out of Zhen's hand."

Minerva frowned, rebuke on her tongue until Zhen turned and hugged the man fiercely.

"It's not your fault, Xiao Lang," she assured him. "I'm the one that opened the seal."

"It's no one's fault," Eriol asserted sternly, silencing any further protests. "Sakura was a powerful sorceress. She knew exactly what would happen when she chose Zhen to possess the cards. She knew they would be released and she knew that Zhen would have to find them, just as she had a decade earlier." The man paused, his gaze fixed on Xiao Lang. "She also would have known that you would be here to help Zhen."

Xiao Lang seemed to hesitate, as if he wanted to deny what Eriol had said, but then he nodded in acceptance.

"I feel very out of my element and my questions must seem very ignorant to you, and for that I apologize," Minerva stated, her words easing the heaviness of the silence that had fallen. "However, I have to ask, do you think that the cards could have reached Hogwarts? Is that why Lady Yelan had such concerns about Zhen attending?"

"The cards are magical beings," Kero answered. "They may have only been caught by the breeze, but once they left the book where they were sealed, they could conceivably travel anywhere. I was surprised the last time they were released that the majority of them were found so close to where Sakura lived."

"It's not as surprising as you might think, Keroberos," Eriol countered. "The cards are tied to the one chosen to seal them. The cards will be drawn to Zhen, just as they were drawn to Sakura. It is her that they are tied to, not a geographical location. Thus, if Zhen is at Hogwarts, it is logical to think that the cards will be too.

"Although they would not want to admit it, the cards are drawn to the one destined to seal them. They are like small children in a way. There is a part of them that will always wish to return to their master where they will be safe."

"Meaning that our students may be in danger," Minerva concluded.

"Yes, but not just from the cards," said Lian, her eyes fixed on the cup cradled in her hands, "which is why Yelan asked you to meet with me. There have already been several attempts to take both Zhen and the cards she has collected." Minerva's mouth parched. "Thus far my family has been able to protect them, but not without casualty. Zhen's martial arts teacher, my niece, Meiling was killed in one of the attacks just last month."

A loud sniff drew Minerva's attention to Zhen, her heart aching when she found the girl crying.

"Have you any idea who is behind these attacks," Albus asked quietly, handing a large navy handkerchief to Zhen. "Have you been able to identify them?"

"Some of them were just rival clan members, but there was one sorcerer that we have been unable to identify," Xiao Lang explained, rubbing Zhen's back absently. "He's been sighted several times in Hong Kong with a British wizard. No one's been able to identify either of them."

"I have my suspicions, Albus, that the boy may be involved with some of the old families here in Britain. I've heard rumours of what's gone on in the last two years with Quirrell and the Chamber of Secrets. It's possible these attacks are related." Lian hesitated. "None of Voldemort's former servants that knew of the Clow Cards would have been fool enough to attack Sakura. Not even Voldemort himself would have been so foolish. She was too powerful, but Zhen," Lian swallowed with obvious difficulty, "Zhen is not yet."

Silence followed, broken only by Zhen's soft sniffles. The idea that anyone could attack a child was heinous and Minerva found her overprotective nature raising its hackles. She pitied the person – wizard or sorcerer – that tried to harm one of _her_ children, which she realized abruptly, Zhen had just become. All the children of Hogwarts were her children, regardless of their house or heritage. She would protect Zhen, just as she would protect Harry or any other student that came under threat. She only hoped she was strong enough.

Sirius Black and this sorcerer, whoever he was, were not to be taken lightly. Having taught Sirius she knew of his skill and if this sorcerer was in league with the remnants of Voldemort's forces, he would be well-trained. Dread settled in her stomach like a weight and Minerva found she had to force the last of her tea down. She wasn't certain she was ready for what was coming, but she knew she would face it none the less. She glanced at Zhen, the girl half asleep in her cousin's arms, and knew that she would face Voldemort himself if she had to. No child deserved to live in fear. Not Zhen, not Harry, not any child.

"Well, now that we've dispensed with the formalities, I suggest we take advantage of these wonderful treats Hayward has left us," Albus suggested, smiling brightly as if ignorant of the tension Minerva knew the wizard could sense. "I for one would like one of those lemon tarts."

"Now you're talking, headmaster," Kero shouted as he dove to the table. "What you should really try is some of this pudding."

Albus agreed heartily and accepted the small dish offered to him by the tiny guardian. The others joined in and were served in turn by Keroberos, who gave his personal opinion on each of their treats. The tiny animal had as much of a sweet tooth as Albus.

"Minerva?" Minerva looked up as Lian knelt on the floor beside her chair. "I can understand how overwhelming this all must be for you and I admit I've debated whether it is wise to send Zhen to Hogwarts at all. However, having served with you and Albus in the Order after Richard joined and having heard him talk about how wonderful Hogwarts was as a child, I can't imagine a place I would rather Zhen be."

Minerva smiled wearily, her tea cup nestled between the folds of her robes as she took both of Lian's hands and squeezed them tightly.

"It is all a bit overwhelming, I admit, but it is nothing that we cannot handle. In fact, if the last two years have been any indication, any disruption by the Clow Cards will barely be noticed."

Lian laughed.

"I think you're underestimating their capacity for causing trouble, Minerva."

"Or you are underestimating Mr Potter's capacity for the same," Minerva commented dryly, reaching for more tea to settle her nerves.

It was going to be a long year.

To be continued...

A/N – So we're getting into the thick of things...Harry and Zhen have been introduced and you now know what Zhen is up against. Please let me know that you thought...I welcome reviews of all types...suggestions, criticisms, raves, declarations, thoughts etc.

Next chapter – Zhen's perspective (finally :P)! Her last night before Hogwarts and the train ride.


	3. CH 2: Of Friends

An extensive knowledge of the anime/manga series isn't necessary to enjoy this story as it is set in Harry Potter's world and will focus on that timeline. All necessary knowledge of the series will be included in the story that follows. I hope you will enjoy it!

**Summary:** Sakura dies unexpectedly and Xiao Lang's cousin Zhen Li – a 1st year student at Hogwarts – becomes the next cardcaptor. While getting her supplies in Diagon Alley she meets Harry, changing his fate and hers as in the two become friends, perhaps more. Harry becomes Zhen's ally in capturing and protecting the Clow Cards. Zhen in turn helps Harry to discover the true power of the Chosen One, power he never would have believed he could possess, as he faces Sirius Black, the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and the Dark Lord himself. However, both are unaware that the mysterious sorceress hunting Zhen has joined forces with the Dark Lord, making Harry's task even more difficult. With two of the most powerful magical beings in existence as their adversaries and an unparalleled darkness rising Zhen and Harry struggle to sort friend from foe in a world where friends are enemies and enemies are friends. A wrong choice could mean their death.

A/N – Sorry this chapter was longer being added. Once again was much longer than I anticipated. I hope you enjoy it! Remember – I love hearing from you all. Reviews of any sort are welcome. It's why I write in a forum! Best wishes – Sierra.

Chapter 2: Of Friends, Dementors, and Cryptic Hats

"I'm telling you Zhen, we're going to need more pudding."

Zhen rolled her eyes as she set the picnic basket brimming with pudding cups into her trunk for Hogwarts.

"Kero, if I filled this trunk with pudding you wouldn't think it was enough and Granddad put several undetectable extension charms on it."

Zhen moved to the bed and lifted a stack of books, setting it inside her trunk as Kero hovered near her head.

"You can _never_ have enough pudding, Zhen."

"I'm sure they'll have pudding at Hogwarts, Kero," Zhen assured her guardian with a smile. "It's not as if I'm not going to feed you."

"I know, but I like to be prepared in case of emergencies."

Zhen stopped at that, the second stack of books balanced precariously against her chest as she looked at Keroberos sceptically.

"A pudding emergency?"

Her plush-like guardian huffed, floating in front of her with his arms crossed over his chest as he turned his nose up, refusing to meet Zhen's gaze.

"It could happen."

Zhen laughed and set a second stack of books in her trunk. A loud pop announced the appearance of one of her grandparents' house elves, but Zhen still yelped when she pulled her head out of the trunk and found herself nose to nose with Nym. She glared at the tiny creature where it sat, perched on the open lid of her trunk. Nym smiled.

"Mistress Zhen, Master Parish be wishing to speak with you, if you please."

Zhen nodded, giving her heart a moment to start beating before she answered aloud.

"Thank you, Nym. Where is he?"

"He be in his office in the east wing, Mistress."

Zhen nodded and Nym vanished.

"I'm going to go find Granddad, Kero. Don't touch the pudding."

"Who me?" Zhen's eyes narrowed. "All right, all right, I won't touch it."

Zhen left her room, knowing very well that when she returned at least one of the pudding cups would be inexplicably absent. Kero loved nothing more than pudding, except maybe muggle video games. Zhen smiled to herself as she crossed the front hallway of the second floor to the eastern staircase. Sometimes it was hard to believe that Kero was a powerful and wise magical being, which he was. His knowledge of magic had saved Zhen more than once and she was sure it would again. That didn't mean he couldn't be a hyperactive, irrational, nuisance.

Zhen waved to Wisp and the tips of the elf's ears reddened as he dusted the balcony banister. The front hallway was open on the second floor. Cushioned sofas and chairs overlooked the entryway on either side of the stone chimney, loosely circling a low mahogany table. To the left of the seating area an alcove of books was built into the wall and to the right a grand piano stood, its black and white teeth gleaming in the light of the wrought bronze chandelier that hung in the entryway.

Zhen loved her grandparents' home in England. She loved their home in Hong Kong as well, but in the tradition of Hong Kong's magical families, their home was very much like a muggle home. There were no talking portraits, no inexplicable extensions or additions, no magical plants. Parish Hall on the other hand was brimming with magic. It was as if the structure itself was alive. Not to mention that it was so huge that Zhen could spend hours exploring. Even after eleven years she found something new every time.

Both the east and the west wing were only one storey, but the magical additions meant they were several hallways wide. Only the original part of the building to which the two parallel wings were attached was two storeys. At the bottom of the staircase she turned left, following the carpet runner until she reached the double doors of her grandfather's study. The crest of Ravenclaw was carved on the right door and the Parish family crest on the left. She smiled, her eyes tracing the lines of the Ravenclaw crest. Fourteen generations of Parish wizards had been sorted into that house and soon, she expected, it would become her home as well. Having heard her grandfather's stories about Ravenclaw tower and its wonderful view of the stars Zhen couldn't wait to finally see it.

"Come in, Zhen!"

The left door was ajar and Zhen pushed it open, stepping into her grandfather's study. The wood floor was bare except for a throw rug of braided navy and bronze fabric. The curtains and furniture were navy, the picture frames and candle sticks bronze. Her grandfather had told her that after spending seven years in Ravenclaw, it just didn't quite seem like home without the navy and bronze of his house.

Her grandfather smiled at her, but Zhen noticed that his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. That had been happening a lot since their meeting with Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall two weeks ago. Zhen was beginning to worry.

"Come take a seat next to me, little one," her grandfather instructed, patting the plush cushion of his sofa. Zhen complied, angling herself so that she was facing her grandfather. "How is your packing coming?"

"Good, better if Kero weren't trying to help." Her grandfather chuckled softly, nodding as he took a sip of amber liquid from a crystal tumbler. Zhen frowned. Her grandfather rarely drank. "Granddad, are you all right?"

"Hm?" Her grandfather turned and looked at her, his expression thoughtful. He blinked and the light returned to his eyes for an instant as he brushed his hand against her cheek. "I guess I should know better than to think I can hide things from you, Zhen. You've always been exasperatingly perceptive, even when you were little."

His eyes filled suddenly with tears as he looked at her and Zhen's concern grew exponentially. She crawled across the cushion and wrapped her arms around her grandfather fiercely as his tears dripped onto her forehead.

"Grandfather, what's wrong?"

For a moment her grandfather said nothing and Zhen wondered if he would tell her as he ran his fingers through her hair distractedly.

"Do you remember the boy we met in Diagon Alley, Zhen?"

Zhen nodded, craning her neck to look at her grandfather.

"Of course, Harry Potter."

"Mm." Her grandfather's rumble of agreement vibrated against Zhen's ear. "It seems the boy is in danger. A wizard named Sirius Black has broken out of Azkaban. He's a lunatic, a murderer. He killed one of his best friends and twelve muggles in the middle of the street with only a single curse the year you were born." Her grandfather paused, his eyes fixed on the fire, the flames reflected in the lenses of his glasses. "And now it seems he's coming after Harry."

Zhen's eyes widened and she pulled back from her grandfather.

"Harry? But why? Is it because of what he did to Voldemort?"

Her grandfather flinched at her use of the dark wizard's name, but Zhen's mother had refused to let her refer to him as you-know-who.

"Yes and no. You see, Sirius Black was once a dear friend to Harry's parents, James and Lily, their best friend, actually. He was even Harry's godfather. As such, he was entrusted with their location when James and Lily went into hiding to protect Harry from Riddle. Unfortunately for all of them, Black had deceived them. He revealed to Riddle where the Potters were hiding, allowing him to find and kill them, except for Harry."

"Then Black is the reason Harry's parents are dead and Harry was nearly killed?" Her grandfather nodded. "But why, why would he do that if he was their friend?"

Her grandfather sighed, his expression mournful and for the first time in her memory, in the shadowed light of the fire, Zhen thought her grandfather actually looked his eighty years.

"No one knows. He was sent to Azkaban without trial and has been there ever since. Until now. Now he's loose and he's coming after Harry."

"Can't we do something to help him, Granddad?"

Zhen watched as her grandfather's expression changed, his smile returning as he bent and kissed her forehead.

"If only more people had your heart, little one, the world would be a much safer place for all of us, Mr Potter included." Zhen smiled. "As for helping Mr Potter, that's actually why I wanted to speak with you. When your headmaster visited a couple of weeks ago he asked if your grandmother and I would see Harry to the train tomorrow morning, to make sure that Black doesn't try anything. I told him I would think about it." Zhen opened her mouth to protest his uncertainty, but closed it when he raised his hand. "I am of course concerned for Mr Potter's welfare, but your safety and your well-being are my top priority. With your father gone, I-I couldn't bear to lose you too."

Zhen hugged her grandfather even tighter than before.

"You're not going to lose me, Granddad, I promise."

She heard the soft thunk of crystal against wood and soon found herself wrapped in her grandfather's strong arms, his chin resting against her head.

"That doesn't stop me from worrying, Zhen, and I do worry. I worry about you off capturing these cards, I worry about this sorcerer we can't find, and I worry about you becoming friends with Harry Potter. Black isn't the only one who would like to see the boy dead."

"Please Granddad, please can't we help him? I promise I'll be careful."

Even with her ear pressed against her grandfather's chest Zhen couldn't tell if the sound her grandfather made was a laugh or a sob as he squeezed her.

"I know you will and we will help Mr Potter. I guess I'm just not ready to let you go yet. I don't like the idea of you being in danger without me there to look out for you."

Zhen tipped her head, grinning.

"Don't worry Granddad, I've got Kero."

This time her grandfather laughed as he pulled her onto his lap. Zhen held him snugly, knowing that her grandfather needed to have her close tonight. Tears stung her eyes and she realized that maybe she needed him close too. She'd never been away from her family before. She'd spent a few years in Japan with Sakura, but Xiao Lang or her mother had always been with her. She'd travelled to Britain, but her grandparents had been with her every moment. Now she was going off to a new school and none of them could come with her. She would be alone for the first time.

Zhen sniffed, swiping at her tears and peeked over her grandfather's arm when she felt something warm brush against her bare foot. She was greeted with the expectant face of her familiar, a cat with long white fur and frosted blue eyes. He'd been a gift from her aunt Yelan for her eighth birthday. She'd found him in the marketplace in Hong Kong, being sold by a common vender. Yet, Yelan had sensed - as Zhen did now - the magic that curled around her furry friend. His eyes were so cognisant they were nearly human and he often reacted to Zhen's words as if he understood them. It annoyed Kero to no end.

"Hello Ming," Zhen greeted her pet, scratching his chin fondly. "I'm ok, promise." The cat purred, butting his head against her grandfather's thigh. Zhen laughed. "I think Ming is worried about you, Granddad."

"Hm? Oh, Ming? About me?" Her grandfather smiled and ran his hand along the cat's spine languidly. "Not to worry, my good fellow. I'll be right as rain with a bit of sleep, although, I'll expect you to keep an eye on this young lady for me." Ming looked up at her grandfather and meowed. Her grandfather chuckled. "I'll take that as a yes."

"I would, if I were you, Hayward. That cat is as protective of Zhen as Xiao Lang, perhaps even more so." Zhen looked up, smiling when she saw her mother standing in the doorway. Ming leapt gracefully off the sofa and rubbed against her mother affectionately. "We've got a bit of packing left to do and then it's time for bed, Zhen. It will be a long and exciting day for you tomorrow. I want you to be able to enjoy it as best you can."

"All right, Mum." Zhen leaned up and kissed her grandfather's cheek, wrapping her arms around his neck briefly before sliding off his lap and onto the floor. "Night Granddad."

"Good night, my girl, and I'll see you bright and early."

Zhen smiled and followed her mother out of the room, watching her grandfather as the door shut behind them.

"Mum, after I go to bed, will you come back and check on Granddad? He seems sad."

Her mother smiled and nodded as they made their way back up the eastern staircase.

"Of course, although I believe your grandmother is on her way to do just that. It would seem Nym was a bit worried about him as well." Zhen smiled, knowing if anyone could get her grandfather to feel better, it would be her grandmother. Sylvia Parish was a force to be reckoned with. "How far did you get in your packing?"

"I finished with all of my clothes and toiletries, my potions supplies, my cauldron, my telescope, most of my books, Kero's pudding and his tent."

Zhen's grandmother had shrunk a wizarding tent to Kero's size so he could live in her trunk if necessary. Both she and Kero were well aware that with Zhen sharing a room, it could be difficult to keep the fact that her stuffed lion was alive a secret if he was in plain sight all the time.

"And do you still have lots of room?"

"Loads. Granddad put so many extensions on my trunk I think we could all live in there."

Her mother laughed.

"I think he was just pleased there was finally something constructive he could do to help you get ready. He's been driving your grandmother mad all day long with his pestering and pacing."

"He's really worried about me, isn't he?"

"Yes, he is. We all are."

Her mother pushed open the door to her room. Zhen smiled as Ming charged ahead, hopping nimbly up onto her four-poster bed.

"Mum?" Zhen's voice was so quiet she was surprised her mother heard her, but she glanced at Zhen as she picked up the last stack of books from the bed. Zhen swallowed slowly and continued. "Do you think maybe I shouldn't go? I mean, it could be dangerous for the students and if you and Granddad are so worried, maybe I should just stay."

Her mother set the books inside the open trunk and sat on the edge of the bed. Zhen pulled herself up beside her.

"Zhen, there will always be dangers in this world and your grandparents, Xiao Lang, and I will always love you. Because we love you, we will worry when you're not with us, but that doesn't mean we don't want you to leave if that's what you want." Zhen laid her head against her mother's shoulder. "Do you want to go to Hogwarts?"

Zhen frowned, flicking the tassels on the afghan her grandmother had draped across the end of her bed. Ming shoved his head under her hand insistently, purring when Zhen obliged him by scratching behind his ears.

"Yes and no," she paused, "but more yes than no, if that makes any sense."

Her mother smiled, hugging Zhen's shoulders from behind and pressing her right cheek against Zhen's left.

"It makes perfect sense. Just remember, you can always come home."

Zhen nodded silently and her mother kissed her cheek.

"Am I interrupting?" Xiao Lang smiled as he poked his head around the door and Zhen grinned. "I just wanted to say goodnight and to give you your going away present." Zhen's mother let her go and Zhen flew off the bed and across the room. She pulled at the doorknob but Xiao Lang held it firmly in place. "Hey! No peeking!" Zhen pouted at his scolding. Xiao Lang laughed. "I couldn't wrap it, so you're going to have to close your eyes."

Zhen smiled and did as instructed, wondering what her cousin had found for her. Eriol had bought her a broom, a Firebolt like the one she'd seen in the window of the store in Diagon Alley. Gran had pitched a royal fit, scolding Eriol for giving an inexperienced child the fastest racing broom on the market. Her grandfather on the other hand had been ecstatic, although he said nothing at the time, winking at Eriol as her grandmother continued to rant. Zhen was a first year, so she wouldn't be able to take it with her, but she didn't mind. She knew she'd be able to ride it as soon as she came home for Christmas and by then she'd have had her flying lessons.

"Can I open my eyes yet?"

The air in front of her changed, it felt less close and her bangs tickled her nose as the door creaked. Xiao Lang drew closer and Zhen squirmed, reminding herself not to peek. It felt like she'd been waiting forever. Her squirming stilled when she caught the sweet scent of hay. Why would her cousin smell like hay? Had he been to the stables?

"All right, open your eyes."

Slanting brown eyes peeked at Zhen from a creamy heart-shaped face and she gasped. It was an owl! It stood more than a foot tall, its russet wings tucked smoothly against its body, as it blinked curiously at Zhen from its perch on her cousin's arm.

"I know you can't take her with you because you have Ming, but I thought I could keep her with me while you're at school. That way we can send letters back and forth even when I'm not with your grandparents."

Timidly, Zhen held out her hand. Her grandfather's owl Ivan had a habit of biting and she was afraid of getting nipped. But the owl on her cousin's arm simply turned its head sideways, watching her, its white face brilliant against its dappled ginger body. With a quiet hoot the owl tapped its beak against Zhen's hand enquiringly, cooing in appreciation when Zhen rubbed its chest.

"It's a barn owl, right?" Xiao Lang nodded. "What's its name?"

"She doesn't have one yet. I thought I'd leave that to you."

Zhen pursed her lips, studying the owl thoughtfully as she continued to skim her fingers down its velvet feathers.

"How about Rowena, like Rowena Ravenclaw?"

"That's the house you'll be in at school, right?"

Zhen nodded.

"Well, probably anyway. If I'm not I'll be the first Parish that hasn't been in a couple of centuries."

Xiao Lang cupped her cheek and kissed her forehead.

"Just remember, you're not a Parish, you're a Li." Zhen grinned and stuck out her tongue at him. Xiao Lang stood, tousling her hair. "How's your packing coming?" Zhen's smile faded as her cousin stepped further into the room, his eyes settling on the small trunk sitting on her desk. "Is that all you've got left?"

Zhen nodded wordlessly and crossed the room to her desk. Not sure why, she held her breath as she opened the trunk, both comforted and bothered by its contents. The traditional Chinese ceremonial robes that marked her as a member of Li clan were folded neatly on the bottom, nearly hidden by dozens of long golden strips of paper marked with magic sigils. They were elemental ofuda or talismans that the sorcerers of the east typically used to channel their magic and transform it into one of the natural elements. Even with a fair number of the Clow Cards at her command, Zhen found she couldn't forsake the magic she'd been taught and used as a child.

Next to the ofuda was a wand only six inches long. It was decorated with braided onyx leather and a golden flower hung from a silk chord on one end. Zhen fingered the wand fondly, knowing that she only had to take it in hand for it to transform into razor sharp sword, a Chinese jian like the sword Xiao Lang wielded. For eastern sorcerers magic was the craft of war and as such so were their wands. They used weapons to channel their magic instead of wooden wands.

Beside the wand sat a large crimson leather volume fastened with golden clasps, an orante sun ornament fixed to the front with a delicate golden chain. The Clow Book, the container for the Clow Cards. Those that Zhen had already captured rested inside the hollow book and even with it closed Zhen could sense their pulsating magic.

Looking at the book the realization that she alone would now be tasked with the protection and the capture of the Clow Cards weighed against Zhen heavily. She had always been the cardcaptor, but she had always had Xiao Lang, her mother – the whole Li clan in fact – to help her keep the cards safe. Now there would be no one. No one to help her when the cards were too strong for her, no one to give her advice when she didn't know what to do, no one to stand with her if the sorcerer returned to take the cards.

Zhen jumped when Xiao Lang laid his hand on her shoulder, his simple gesture obliterating the panic she felt welling up within her. She smiled weakly and dove into his open arms, burying her face against his chest as tears seared her eyelids. In a single swift movement he shifted her in his arms, lifting her as he stood, swaying back and forth as she let go of her fears, never feeling safer than when she was in his arms. Zhen had never known her father and she regretted that, she truly did. Yet, when she imagined him, he was just like Xiao Lang, and Zhen knew that although Richard Parish might be dead, there would always be one man who loved and protected her with every fibre of his being. She might not call him father, but he was everything a father was supposed to be.

Xiao Lang pressed his lips against her brow and tucked her hair behind her ear, humming softly. Zhen recognized the melody as one Sakura used to sing to her as a child and smiled. She hadn't even realized she'd closed her eyes until she woke with a start. She was moving, her head and knees cradled, as Xiao Lang's strong arms were replaced with those of her mother and the empty air beneath her became the softness of her bed.

She fought to open her eyes, her lids painfully heavy. The room was dark except for the light from the hallway table outside her door. Xiao Lang and Rowena were gone. Her mother smiled at her, brushing the bangs from her forehead, her hands smooth and cool. Zhen smiled.

"Will you say good night to Xiao Lang for me?" Her mother nodded and Zhen yawned. "I want to go, to Hogwarts I mean. I want to help Harry and I don't want to let being scared of this sorcerer keep me from doing what I want. I want to learn to be a wizard, like Dad. Then I'll be able to protect the cards even better."

Her mother smiled.

"Just remember, precious one, that even though you have been given a task that only you can complete, you don't need to do it alone. That was never Sakura's intention."

Zhen wanted to ask her mother how she knew what Sakura's intentions were and how she was supposed to get help at Hogwarts when she wasn't allowed to tell anyone about the Clow Cards, but she found her eyes were closed again. This time they wouldn't open and she couldn't seem to get her mouth to work either. She vaguely registered her mother kissing her cheek before the door was shut and the room went dark. Zhen sighed and rolled onto her side so that she was facing Kero where he lay sprawled on the pillow next to her, snoring loudly.

Her mind was whirling and tired as she was, Zhen was afraid she'd never get to sleep. Tomorrow she would go to Hogwarts. She would find out what house she was in, meet her professors and her classmates. She wondered if the Clow Cards would be there. Eriol seemed to think so. Zhen worried about how much trouble they would cause and how she would capture them without getting caught. She wondered if the sorcerer that had attacked her would find her there, which reminded her of the wizard hunting Harry. Would Sirius Black come to Hogwarts? Zhen wasn't sure, but the headmaster must be very worried about Harry if he was providing him with an escort to the train. Zhen's final thought on the matter as she drifted off to sleep was that in spite of her fears, she was excited to see Harry again.

* * *

"We only wanted –

"To make sure –

"That you don't forget –

"Us little folk –

"Now that you're Head Boy, Perc."

Harry observed the impending row discreetly from behind his toast as Percy stared at his school robes, mouth opening and closing like some muggle automaton. Somehow – and Harry was sure he didn't want to know how – Fred and George had managed to charm Percy's robes. Across the back and front in violently bright orange font the words "humongous bighead" were emblazoned at all angles. Percy shut his mouth with one final snap, his face as red as his hair as he glared at his younger brothers. Beside Harry, Ron sniggered.

"How long do you suppose it will take him to notice the badge," he wondered quietly and Harry grinned half-heartedly, remembering that Fred and George had charmed that as well. "If they keep up at this rate Percy's going to have a stroke before we get to the train."

"You should be ashamed of yourself, Ron, taking so much pleasure in your brother's embarrassment," Hermione chastised, but Harry noticed that her reprimand didn't have its usual bite as she watched Percy tugging at his robes.

"I demand you undo whatever it is that you've done, now!"

Percy's command might have sounded imposing, except for the girlishly high pitch of his voice. The twins grinned.

"Anything you say, Perc" agreed Fred.

George touched his wand to Percy's robes and the font flickered, vanishing for an instant and then returning. Then vanishing, then returning, then vanishing, then returning. At that, Ron lost it, laughing outright as he hugged his sides.

"He's looks like a bleeding Christmas tree."

Percy's scowl deepened.

"Mother!"

Mrs Weasley bustled down the stairs, Ginny in tow, quickly taking appraisal of the situation.

"Fred, George, undo whatever it is that you've done and apologize to your brother."

"Of course, Mum," the twins chorused and blinking words vanished. "We're sorry.

Mrs Weasley only sighed, shaking her head as she passed Ginny a bowl of oatmeal and handed Ron a sweater.

"And that's enough of tormenting your brother. It's a great honour to be named head boy and you two should be proud of him." The twins agreed with her enthusiastically, rolling their eyes behind her back as she turned to Ron. "Ron, finish that quickly and get up to your room. You were supposed to finish packing last night and yet somehow the contents of your trunk seem to have sprouted legs and found their way to the floor." Ron nodded sheepishly, cramming his toast into his mouth. "Percy, do you need to be at the train early to join the prefects? We should floo the ministry drivers and warn them."

Harry sighed as Mrs Weasley continued. Usually he enjoyed the chaos of the Weasley family, but this morning he couldn't rid himself of the argument he'd overheard between the two eldest Weasleys the night before. Sirius Black was after _him_, had broken out of prison just to find him in fact. That's why he hadn't got in trouble for blowing up Aunt Marge. That's why the ministry was providing them with cars to the train. That's why the guards of Azkaban were being set around Hogwarts. Harry squirmed inwardly. Sirius Black must be an exceptionally dangerous wizard if not even Hogwarts was safe. And he was coming after Harry.

His breakfast was suddenly unappealing and Harry left the table, standing next to his trunk near the front door of the pub where he'd set Hedwig's cage earlier. He stuck two of his fingers through the bars, smiling when Hedwig hooted softly, nipping at him inquiringly.

What breakfast Harry had managed was sitting like a rock in his stomach and he noticed as he held his hand out to Hedwig that his fingers were trembling slightly. He glanced at the Weasleys, hoping for a distraction, but his anxiety was only magnified. At first glance, all was normal bedlam. Yet, Mrs Weasley's tone was sharper than usual, her rants more rambling, and she wrung her hands restlessly as she picked at each of her children in turn. Mr Weasley seemed calmer as he sat reading the Daily Prophet over a cup of tea, but Harry caught him glancing at the front door of the Leaky Cauldron every few seconds.

He sighed and returned his attentions to Hedwig. None of the others seemed to notice anything amiss. Perhaps he was just imagining it. He dug into his pocket and pushed one of Hedwig's treats through the bars to her. She snipped it quickly in half and gulped both pieces down, giving her feathers a satisfied preen as she returned to her perch.

"I promise, Mum, I'll do better in potions and I won't get into trouble and...Mum? Mum, are you listening?"

"I think you've finally driven her 'round the bend, Ronnie," chirped one of the twins.

"Yeah, she looks like she just took a stunner," the other seconded. "All the better to do this."

Percy yelped.

"Mother, did you see that? Did you see what he just did?" There was a pause. The twins sniggered, but the other Weasley children were unnervingly quiet. "Mother?"

"Mum, are you ok?"

Ginny's voice was thin, quiet, and tight. It made the hairs on the back of Harry's neck stand on end and he found his hand slipping into his pocket for his wand. He knew what that tone meant coming from the youngest Weasley. Ginny was afraid.

"Merlin save me."

Harry's heart stopped at Mrs Weasley's words, his fingers tightening around his wand so he expected it to snap at any second. Silence – absolute and fearsome – descended over the Weasley clan. Heart in throat Harry turned, half expecting to see Sirius Black looming over the Weasley matriarch, a killing curse on his lips.

Instead he found Mrs Weasley staring at him, or rather, he decided, through him. The expression on the Weasley childrens' faces reflected the unease that Harry felt as they strained to see what had unnerved their mother. Hermione peered around Ron, her own face marked with concern as Mr Weasley's newspaper fluttered to the floor. Mrs Weasley's eyes flooded with tears and she reached mechanically for the maroon handkerchief tucked up her sleeve. Her sons exchanged worried glances, but Harry knew they couldn't see the smile that had eased her dazed expression.

"Hello, Molly."

Harry knew that voice. He turned slowly, certain he must be hearing things, but he wasn't. Lian Li stood in the entryway of the Leaky Cauldron, her eyes fixed on Mrs Weasley. Her greeting seemed to be all the encouragement Mrs Weasley needed. With a small sob red-headed witch charged, gathering Zhen's mother into a bone-crushing hug.

Bewildered, the Weasley children whispered to one another, their squabbles forgotten as they tried to figure out who the woman in the doorway was. Harry knew, but he couldn't seem to find his voice to tell them. It was obvious the two witches knew each other, which he supposed wasn't unreasonable given that they both knew his parents. The larger question was why? What was Lian doing here?

"Hello Harry." Harry jumped at Zhen's quiet greeting, but relaxed at the sight of her easy smile and warm brown eyes. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." Zhen's smile dimmed, her eyes darkening to match her concerned expression. "Are you all right? I've been worried ever since Granddad told me Black was after you."

Harry felt his eyes widen and he stole a quick glance over his shoulder, certain that the Weasley children had not overheard. He drew Zhen closer to the door away from the others.

"Y-you know about Black?"

Zhen nodded wordlessly. Harry let go of a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding, oddly comforted by the fact that Zhen knew. As an untrained witch he knew she was of no help against Black, but at least he didn't feel as alone. Harry smiled, startled when she leaned forward and hugged him.

"I'm glad you're all right, Harry."

Harry numbly returned the embrace, managing a 'thanks' as his arms circled her back. The only people that hugged him were Hermione and Mrs Weasley. The action caught him off guard, but Harry decided it was not unwelcome. It made him feel like someone cared. In his head he knew there were people that cared for him – the Weasleys and Hermione chief among them – but somehow a hug helped him to know it in his heart, and that made all the difference.

"You know Molly, I feel somewhat offended. You never greet me with such exuberance."

Harry's smile widened at the wry baritone voice as Zhen released him.

"Hayward! What on earth are you doing here?"

The towering wizard's blue eyes sparked as he entered the pub.

"You didn't expect me to permit my only granddaughter to go to off to Hogwarts without a proper send-off did you?" The wizard tipped his hat to Harry. "Good to see you again, Harry."

Mrs Weasley looked doubly confused as she pulled away from Lian, sniffing as she dabbed at her eyes.

"Wait, Hayward, your granddaughter? But how, I thought..."

Lian smiled warmly.

"My daughter, Zhen."

Mrs Weasley's eyes widened, following Lian's gesture to where Zhen stood shyly next to Harry, noticing the girl for the first time. The elder witch's tears began anew as she looked from Zhen to her mother and back again.

"Th-then she would be Richard's..." Lian nodded. "D-did he know before, well before," Mrs Weasley finished awkwardly.

"No," Lian managed, her voice barely a whisper. "I hadn't told him yet."

Mrs Weasley squeezed Lian's shoulder.

"H-has there ever been any word?"

Lian shook her head, her dark eyes bright with pain.

"No. Not since the day he disappeared."

Mrs Weasley nodded and then sniffed loudly, swiping at her tears with a huff.

"Goodness, look at me carrying on. We should be celebrating. You only get to start Hogwarts once, you know." Her welcoming smile firmly in place, Mrs Weasley turned to Zhen. "It's wonderful to meet you, Zhen dear. I'm Molly Weasley."

Zhen bowed.

"It's an honour to meet you, Mrs Weasley."

Mrs Weasley laughed.

"Goodness, dear. No need for such formalities. It seems you're already acquainted with Harry." Harry followed the witch's knowing gaze to his arm, which was still looped through Zhen's from their earlier hug. His cheeks burned. Mrs Weasley winked, taking Zhen's free arm and drawing her toward the table. "Come, I'll introduce you to my children. We've got five still at Hogwarts and the eldest, Percy, has just been named Head Boy."

Harry watched as Zhen was introduced to the Weasley brood plus Hermione, smiling absently as she was immediately and enthusiastically welcomed.

"How are you holding up, my boy?"

Mr Parish's question was quiet, as if he knew that the Weasley children were unaware of Black's plans for Harry.

"I'm not really sure, actually sir," Harry admitted, his voice equally quiet as he watched the twins greet Zhen as one. "It's a rather odd feeling knowing someone wants to kill you, but not knowing why. At least with Voldemort I know why he's out to get me."

The elder wizard's jaw had tightened when Harry spoke Voldemort's name, but unlike most adults, he didn't reprimand Harry for using it. Nor did he question Harry's use of the present tense.

"You mean you haven't been told?"

Harry frowned.

"Told what?"

"Harry!" Harry turned to find the twins striding toward him, grinning rakishly, Ron a step behind with a sullen expression on his face. "Why didn't you tell us you had a girlfriend?"

"What," Harry yelped, his cheeks hot as the two older boys laid their arms across his shoulders. "Zhen is not my girlfriend. We just met in Diagon Alley a couple of weeks ago."

"Funny you didn't mention her, mate," Ron cut in. "It's not as if we didn't talk at all last night."

"Might explain why he's been so distracted all morning," George suggested good-naturedly.

"Yeah, I noticed myself that Harry wasn't quite with us this morning," Fred added.

"Probably nervous about seeing her again."

Harry scowled and shrugged out of the older boys' hold.

"Zhen is just a friend and I didn't mention it because I didn't think of it. I didn't even know she was coming."

"All right now boys, why don't we put all that misdirected energy to good use, shall we?" The three Weasley boys looked up at Hayward Parish as the man rejoined them, Mr Weasley at his elbow. "Since we had to take Zhen to the station anyway I told the ministry that Sylvia and I would give you all a lift as your father is still without his car. No sense in the ministry sending one when we're already making the trip."

Mr Weasley nodded in agreement, but looked pale.

"Right then boys, let's get a move on."

Harry reached for his trunk, but was stopped by Lian.

"Not you, Harry," she murmured. "The other boys will see to it."

Harry sighed but stepped back as George and Fred hefted his trunk with a wink and a smile. Percy and Ron grabbed Ginny's, while Mr Parish and Mr Weasley grabbed one of the pair belonging to the twins. If they noticed anything odd about Harry not helping, they didn't say so. Lian sat on a nearby chair, her eyes darting across the room until she found Zhen at the table next to Hermione looking at one of Hermione's new school books.

"You're not just here because Mr Weasley doesn't have a car are you," Harry asked, even though he knew the answer. "You're here because of Black."

"Yes, we are," Lian answered honestly, but rather than alarm Harry, the admission made him feel relieved. He hated that so many people were keeping things from him. It made him feel as if he were constantly on edge, never knowing where the next blow of information would come from. "The ministry couldn't send aurors to see you to the train. It would draw too much unwanted attention. However, Dumbledore pointed out that because you and Zhen have met it would be perfectly natural for you to get a ride with us."

Harry frowned.

"I wish you hadn't. You're all taking a huge risk for my sake. If Black's as crazy as they say he wouldn't hesitate to hurt any of you to get to me."

Lian's expression hardened.

"We knew the risks when we agreed to drive you, Harry. Dumbledore didn't force us to do it. Do you really think so little of yourself that you don't believe we would help you of our own free will?"

Harry studied his shoes. This was the second time he'd spoken to Lian alone and the second time he'd felt the fool. It wasn't a lack of intelligence. He had enough self-confidence to know that he wasn't stupid. However, Lian was showing him very clearly, very quickly, that his narrow views of people and their motives were hurtful. To his friends and maybe, he conceded, even to himself. Like with his father.

Harry had always wanted to think the best of his father, had always thought of him as infallible, but as Lian had pointed out that day in the apothecary, he was only human. That didn't diminish the man he was, but Harry needed to accept that his father had flaws just like anyone else. Furthermore, contrary to what his Aunt and Uncle had drilled into him since his arrival on their doorstep twelve years ago, there were people who genuinely cared about him and it hurt them when he dismissed their attempts to help him. Like now.

He wasn't sure how long he stood, memorizing the pattern of the laces in his sneakers before Lian tipped his chin, waiting with silent patience until he met her eyes.

"Harry, you are a thirteen year old boy. It is not your responsibility to worry about our safety." Harry was surprised when Lian smirked, the change in her regal features making Harry realize just how young she was, much younger than Ron's parents. "Besides, were it to come down to it, I'd wager that Hayward and Sylvia would be more than a match for Sirius Black."

"Really? Everyone I've heard talk about him seems scared stiff."

"Understandable," Lian assured him, releasing his chin and brushing his unruly fringe out of his eyes. "Especially given that few of the wizards you've heard gossiping are retired aurors."

Harry realized his mouth was hanging open and spoke quickly in hopes of disguising his surprise.

"Mr and Mrs Parish?"

"Yes, they've quite a reputation within some circles," Lian informed him, standing and leading him toward the table where Zhen and Hermione were sitting. "They're less known in Britain because they've spent their lives in Hong Kong, but the Ministry recalled them to England during the First War to help deal with Voldemort's followers. They weren't much liked among the Death Eaters and were feared by the ones that had any sense."

Harry glanced at the elderly witch and wizard standing just outside the door of the Leaky Cauldron, struggling to imagine them fighting Death Eaters. They just didn't seem like the sort of wizards to survive a duel with the worst of the wizarding world's scum. Then again, neither did Dumbledore at first glance.

"Are you girls ready to go? I believe that Arthur and Hayward just took the last trunk."

"Sure, Mum, this is Hermione Granger, Hermione, this is my Mum, Lian Li."

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance," Hermione offered, her cheeks stained pink as she shook Lian's hand. Harry wondered if Hermione could feel the woman's magic like he had the day he'd met her. "Zhen and I were just discussing some of the classes she'll be taking at Hogwarts."

"I'm sure she's lucky to have you to show her around, Hermione."

"Hermione's the smartest girl in our year, probably in the whole school," Harry explained. "Ron and I wouldn't have done nearly as well our first two years if it weren't for her."

Hermione turned red from the tips of her fingers to the roots of her hair.

"Thank you for saying so, Harry, but I'm not that smart," his friend stammered. "I just work hard."

Harry grinned.

"Whatever you say, 'Mione. Either way, if you're helping Zhen there's no way she'll fall behind."

"All aboard," Mr Parish bellowed from the doorway, the spark in his eyes conspicuously absent as he herded them outside. "We've no time for stragglers. Don't want the train to leave without you." Mr Parish took Hermione's hand as she stepped onto the curb, passing her off to Mr Weasley. "First car if you please, Miss Granger."

Hermione waved as Ron's father helped her into the car.

"See you guys at the train!"

Harry returned the motion mechanically. He moved to follow Lian and Zhen as they entered the second car, but was stopped by Mrs Parish's hand against his chest.

"Not just yet, Mr Potter," she whispered, her eyes never leaving the passing pedestrians.

Harry nodded, very much aware as Zhen disappeared inside the car that he was alone outside except for Mr and Mrs Parish. His heart seemed intent on breaking free of his ribcage and his blood sloshed in his ears, muting the dim sounds of Tom scraping chairs as he cleaned tables inside. Harry had spent the last three weeks moving about Diagon Alley without the slightest bit of fear, but that was before he knew Sirius Black was hunting him. Now he felt he was lucky to have survived his wanderings, although rationally he knew that Dumbledore wouldn't have allowed him such freedom if he thought it was too dangerous. Or at least he hoped not.

He glanced up at Mrs Parish. The witch's lips were pursed in concentration, reminding him of McGonagall. The quiet warmth she had exuded during their first meeting in Diagon Alley was gone. Mr Parish stood beside the second car, eyes scanning the faces of passersby, the tip of his wand barely visible at the cuff of his tailored blazer. Harry looked uneasily between the two as they stood, unyielding and alert. They seemed to be waiting for something. He was about to ask what when he felt a hand come to rest between his shoulder blades. The scream caught in his throat when he whirled and found Xiao Lang standing behind him, a finger against his lips.

"Xiao Lang?"

Xiao Lang glanced at Mrs Parish and nodded discreetly. The witch retuned the gesture and stepped out onto the curb, standing with her back to her husband, one of them on either side of the open car door. Harry looked to Xiao Lang curiously. The Parishes were the aurors. Why had he been left with Xiao Lang? Not that Harry was protesting. In fact, he found the man's quiet presence calming, although he couldn't imagine why. Xiao Lang locked eyes with Harry.

"You will stay with me at all times. You will wait to move until I say so. You will stay always within my reach. You will follow my instructions without question. If something happens to me, you will leave me behind and get to one of the others. Is that clear?"

Harry nodded numbly as his knees knocked together. Xiao Lang's expression softened and he squeezed Harry's shoulder reassuringly.

"You will be safe, Harry."

"N-not to be rude, but why are you... I mean I expected that Mr and Mrs Parish would be..."

Harry sighed, unable to find a polite way to phrase the question.

"Hayward and Sylvia are much more experienced in duels and as such are your protectors. However, for them to fully focus on protecting you from any attack, someone else needs to watch over you and make sure you're where you need to be. They cannot truly devote their attention to two things at once," the man explained quickly, his eyes never leaving Harry's. "Thus, they will watch for Black and I will watch you."

Harry nodded, embarrassed by the audible gulp that escaped his throat as he tried to calm his nerves. Blessedly, Xiao Lang ignored it.

"Are you ready, Harry?"

Harry gathered every ounce of his Gryffindor courage, drawing a deep breath and releasing it slowly. He nodded resolutely and was amazed at how calm he felt as Xiao Lang stood, took hold of Harry shoulders, and propelled him toward the car. Harry could feel Xiao Lang's body looming over his own as they hurried to the car, the man's long strides forcing Harry into a near run as they crossed the five feet between the stoop and the car. With a seeker's swiftness he ducked into the car and fell onto the seat. Xiao Lang gently, but firmly, pushed him across the seat, placing himself between the door and Harry as Sylvia slid onto the seat across from them, the door shutting behind her.

Harry hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath until his chest began to ache. He released the breath slowly and unwound his fingers from his wand as the engine of the car started, closing his eyes as the car pulled away from the curb. He felt foolish for being so afraid. He'd faced Voldemort twice and won. Yet, somehow the protectiveness of Zhen's family made the danger of Sirius Black undeniably real. Facing Voldemort he hadn't had a chance to think, hadn't had a chance to know that the Dark Lord was after him until they'd come face to face. Then it was either fight or die. Sitting around, knowing that Black was hunting him was a very different danger, and it brought a very different fear.

The seat beside him shifted and Harry was surprised when he felt a small shoulder press against his left bicep. He knew without opening his eyes it was Zhen. He could hear Mrs Parish and Lian discussing the traffic on the seat across from him. Xiao Lang sat to his right, his arm brushing Harry's as he leaned back in his seat, his soft baritone rumbling in Harry's ear as he addressed Lian in Chinese. The woman answered him in kind. The language was all vowels and Harry couldn't tell beginning from end, but he found their exchange soothing. He wondered if they were talking about him, but then decided he didn't care. The warmth of being sandwiched between Zhen and Xiao Lang was making him drowsy. He hadn't managed much sleep the night before. His last conscious thought was that he felt safe, before Zhen shook him gently awake. They'd reached the station.

The procedure for getting him inside the station was the same as getting him out of the Leaky Cauldron only in reverse. Harry stayed close to Xiao Lang, aware of every minute flex of the man's hand on his shoulder as they passed through the doors and made their way across the platform, following Mr Parish to nine and three quarters.

They passed through the barrier and Harry felt the familiar pulse of magic as the bricks melted away, inevitably thinking of the previous year when Dobby had sealed the archway. He smiled absently at the thought and allowed himself to be led toward the throng of Weasleys that had gathered near the last carriage. The boys were already loading their trunks and Harry noticed with relief that Ron was carrying Hedwig.

The hand on his shoulder squeezed gently and Harry stopped, looking at his bodyguard worriedly.

"We will wait here by this pillar," Xiao Lang clarified in answer to Harry's silent question. "Keep your back to it. That will be one less direction from which you can be caught unaware."

Harry was beginning to think it was no accident Xiao Lang had been elected his bodyguard. Shielding Harry seemed second nature. The man had done this before.

"Ron, take your sandwich and don't pull your sister's hair."

Harry couldn't help but grin at the sight of the Weasley brood as Mrs Weasley passed out sandwiches to one and all, including Hermione. Her final instructions were harried as always, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes as she gave each child a firm squeeze and a peck on the cheek. Harry found it wonderful that the Weasley children – although Ron in particular might protest – never denied their mother her need to fuss. In fact, if Harry could guess, he'd say it pleased them all from Percy to Ginny. It certainly did him. No one had ever fussed over him before he met the Weasleys and although it still made him feel immensely uncomfortable, it also made him feel wanted for the first time in his memory.

"Harry." Harry started. He'd been so caught up in watching the Weasleys he hadn't noticed Lian's approach. "Mrs Weasley asked me to give this to you."

Harry took the proffered sandwich, expecting Lian would return to Zhen who stood a few feet away between her grandparents. She didn't. Uncertainty flickered in her eyes as she studied his face and when she spoke, he knew her words were meant only for his ears.

"Be careful, Harry, and don't let your perceptions of people blind you to who they truly are. You may find friends where you believe there to be enemies and enemies where you believe there to be friends."

Harry stared at her blankly, not sure what the correct response to such a statement was. There was power in her words, knowing, as if she could see something coming and was trying to warn him, of what he wasn't sure.

* * *

"Gran, is Harry going to be all right?"

Her grandmother's eyes lighted on Zhen for an instant and then returned to scanning the thinning crowds milling about the platform.

"I'm sure he will be fine, Zhen." Her grandmother's voice was mild and consoling in spite of her stern expression. "The greatest danger is now, in getting him to Hogwarts. Once there he will be protected by your headmaster, your professors, even the castle itself."

Zhen watched the older boy worriedly as he boarded the train, Xiao Lang at his left, her grandfather at his right. Once he was on the train there wouldn't be anyone to protect him, at least no adults, and that bothered her. If Black was as cunning as it was said, what was to stop him from somehow finding a way onto the train?

"Stop thinking such morbid thoughts, dearheart," her grandfather chided, sweeping Zhen off her feet and into his arms. "Keep that up and you'll be looking as old and wrinkled as I am before your OWLs."

The light had returned to her grandfather's eyes, but Zhen caught the mischievous glint too late as he began to tickle her mercilessly. She squealed with laughter, writhing in his arms in an attempt to free herself, but in vain. A long blast of the whistle from the scarlet train beside them was all that saved her from tears. With a reluctant sigh her grandfather drew her snug against his chest and Zhen wrapped her arms around his neck, gulping for breath to try and relieve the ache in her sides.

"I'll miss you, Zhen," he murmured, kissing her temple. "Hong Kong will not be the same without you there."

"I'll write, Granddad, I promise," she assured him, kissing his cheek as he set her back on the platform.

Her grandmother's cheeks were already wet when she pulled Zhen into a gripping hug.

"Love you, Gran."

"I love you too, little one," her grandmother managed, her voice thick with tears, "with all my heart." Her grandmother pulled back, her expression severe as she fussed with Zhen's jumper. "Now you be careful and keep up with your studies. Mind your professors and don't wander. Oh and—

"Goodness Sylvia, the girl is going off to school for three months, not to war," her grandfather chided. "You're going to have the girl so rattled she'll miss her train."

Her grandmother blushed and glared at her grandfather.

"I know that Hayward," she snapped. Zhen giggled and her grandmother seemed to soften. "Yes, well, do keep what I said in mind, but have fun."

"I will, Gran."

With one final kiss from each of her grandparents – and a stifled sob from her grandmother – the pair slowly made their way across the platform to the charmed archway. Zhen watched them go, a lump in her throat as she turned back to her mother and Xiao Lang. Further up the platform she could see the conductor closing the carriage doors, scolding a number of students as they tore for the train. She launched herself into Xiao Lang's arms and kissed his cheek.

"Be safe and try to keep Kero out of trouble, hm," he instructed in Chinese. "A castle full of wizards is no place for him to get lost."

Zhen laughed and heard a muffled protest from the deep inside pocket of her jumper where Kero was hiding.

"I'll try, but you know Kero." Xiao Lang smiled. "Love you."

"Love you too," he replied, his amber eyes flashing with unspoken concern, "A lot."

"Take care of Mum for me."

Her cousin nodded and then strode quickly after her grandparents, swiping at his face as he passed through the enchanted arch.

"I fear this will be harder for him than you." Zhen smiled as her mother knelt and pulled her close. "Be careful, my precious girl." Her mother breathed deeply and kissed Zhen's temple. "If something should happen and you can't get to and Professor McGonagall or the headmaster, go to Remus Lupin or Severus Snape. You can trust them."

Zhen nodded, repeating the names and kissed her mother's cheek. The conductor called to them crossly, standing by the door to the last carriage.

"Off you go," her mother commanded, giving Zhen a gentle push. The train whistle gave another sharp blast. Zhen scooped up the pet basket at her feet and took off at a run, waving to her mother as she leapt onto the bottom step. Beneath her the train ground to life, steel wheels whining against the track as it gained speed. Her mother waved. "Goodbye Zhen!"

Zhen stood in the open doorway, waving until they passed the first bend in the track just beyond the platform and then closed the door behind her with a sigh.

"There you are, Zhen. Harry was afraid you'd missed the train."

Zhen turned, smiling at Hermione. She'd taken an instant liking to the elder girl at the Leaky Cauldron. She could be a bit sharp, particularly with the Weasley boy – Ron was it? – but Zhen could sense a kind heart beneath the defensive prickliness of her intellect.

"Sorry, my grandparents were having a bit of trouble letting me go."

Harry grinned.

"Ron's parents have a hard time letting him go every year."

The red-head scowled.

"Not my fault they're clingy."

Hermione rolled her eyes. An older girl wearing her school robes and a golden badge passed them, telling them to find their seats as the train picked up speed. Harry's eyes followed the girl until she was out of sight and then he leaned forward.

"I need to tell you something," he whispered, eyes flicking to Ron's sister. "Privately."

"Get lost, Ginny," Ron ordered.

The Weasley girl pouted and thrust her finger at Zhen.

"What about her?"

The remark was made with such unabashed dislike that Zhen flinched, wondering what she'd done to provoke the girl.

"It's all right," she assured the trio. "I was actually hoping to find something to drink."

"No, Zhen, it's ok," said Harry, casting a quizzical glance at the youngest Weasley. "You already know."

Both Weasleys seemed equally irritated by that. Ginny stomped off up the hallway and Ron stared at the carpet in stony silence. Harry sighed and gave the boy a not-so-gentle nudge toward the back of the carriage.

"Come on, Ron. Let's see if we can find somewhere to sit."

Zhen followed warily, wondering why the two siblings seemed so upset by her presence, as Hermione fell in step beside her.

"I didn't mean to upset them," she whispered to Hermione.

The elder girl smiled reassuringly.

"Ginny's just mad because the twins were teasing Harry earlier about you being his girlfriend – even though he of course told them you weren't. She's had a crush on him for forever and Ron, well, it's hard to say what set him off, but he'll come around, I promise."

Zhen nodded, her eyes fixed anxiously on the redhead beside Harry. She didn't want to be the cause of any strife between the three. During her afternoon with Harry in Diagon Alley he'd mentioned the pair often. It had been obvious to Zhen immediately that Hermione and Ron were the most important people in his life. Harry cared for them deeply.

"They're all full," Harry lamented, "well, almost full."

Zhen stopped behind Harry and Ron, wondering what he'd meant by almost. She stood on her toes and peered over Harry's shoulder – Ron was too tall. A man sat at the far end of the compartment, his head resting against the window, his eyes shut. His even breathing and his lack of response when Harry opened the compartment door confirmed that he was sleeping. Hermione and Ron shrugged and followed Harry inside, taking the seats farthest from the window.

Zhen sat next to Hermione, across from the sleeping man, but close enough to him that she worried about nudging him with her foot. Carefully setting her pet basket beside her on the empty seat by the window she crossed her legs under herself and settled back against the seat.

"Who do you suppose he is," Ron whispered, jerking his head toward the sleeping man as Harry shut the door.

"Professor R. J. Lupin," Hermione replied.

Zhen's eyes flew to the sleeping man with sudden interest. Lupin? That was one of the names her mother had given her. The trio quickly lost interest in the man, their conversation turning to Black's hunt for Harry. Zhen listened absently, focused on the sleeping man across from her. There was something very familiar about him, something familiar and something odd.

The familiarity was in his features. She felt as though she'd met him somewhere before, but couldn't remember where. He was young, with a thin face and a slightly overlong nose. His robes were worn and patched, but were once of good quality. There was something amiable about his expression, but it was overshadowed by weariness. Dark shadows circled his eyes and his light brown hair was streaked with silver. Whoever R. J. Lupin might be and whatever the reason her mother felt he was trustworthy, he had not had an easy life.

Yet, in spite of his appearance Zhen disagreed with Ron's assessment that 'one good hex would finish him off.' He was stronger than he looked. Zhen could see it in his aura. She would even go so far as to say he was powerful. Yet, there was something odd. Seeing auras was not a gift that all eastern sorcerers possessed, but Zhen had been able to do it since before she could talk. Even so, she'd never seen one quite like Professor Lupin's. It was as if his aura – his magic – was fighting itself.

Magic, whether the wielder was a western wizard or an eastern sorcerer, was derived from the heavens, although few wizards acknowledged it any more. Western wizardry was derived from the sun. Eastern sorcery was derived from the moon. Typically a wizard or sorcerer's magic was only derived from one sphere or the other, but over the years the bloodlines had mingled. It was no longer abnormal to find a wizard with a tendril of moon derived magic curling through their aura. In rare cases, there was even a balance, like in Zhen's magic. Like Clow Reed and his reincarnation Eriol, Zhen's magic drew almost equally on the sun and the moon. It was what allowed her to wield the Clow Cards.

That wasn't the case with Professor Lupin. The magic reflected in his aura drew heavily from both the moon and the sun, but rather than merging the two were clashing. Threads of magic drawn from the moon were woven through the professor's aura, but as Zhen watched they coiled dangerously around his core magic. A vivid image of a person's hands wrapping around someone's throat to strangle them came to Zhen's mind and she was no longer surprised by the professor's haggard appearance. She couldn't explain the enmity in his magic, but such a pronounced struggle had to be taking a toll on his health.

She watched the flickering shifts in his aura as the two sides of his magic fought for dominance, still half-listening to the trio's conversation regarding Black. Ron and Hermione seemed even more shaken than Harry.

"What I don't understand is why Black would come after Harry," Ron managed, his face ashen. "As if one crazed wizard weren't enough."

"Isn't it obvious Ron? If Sirius Black was working for you-know-who he probably wants to get Harry back for killing him."

Zhen turned back to the trio. Did they not know?

"Harry, I think there might be more to it than that," Zhen offered quietly. Ron's eyes cut to her sharply, but he seemed too shaken to protest her involvement in their conversation. "Sirius Black was good friends with your parents." Zhen hesitated at the stunned expressions on the three friends' faces. Apparently they didn't know. "I-it was Sirius Black who told Voldemort where to find your parents the night they died."

"Merlin, Harry," Ron breathed. "And that nutter's after you now?"

Harry didn't answer. Zhen watched the maelstrom of emotions reflected in his green eyes – shock, indignation, anger, fear, grief. She wondered if maybe she shouldn't have said anything. She didn't want Harry to go looking for Black, but ultimately she decided he deserved to know the truth. Why hadn't any of the adults told him?

"Harry, are you all right?"

Hermione stretched her hand across the carriage and touched Harry's knee. Harry closed his mouth and swallowed once, twice, three times before he managed a weak nod.

"I-I guess 'Mione." Harry braced his elbows on his knees and drove his fingers through his unruly hair. "Thank you, for telling me Zhen. It's certainly not something I wanted to hear, but I'm glad I know the truth." He chuckled mirthlessly and peeked up at her from the edge of his dark fringe, green eyes bright with unshed tears. "Boy, you and your mum don't hold any punches, do you?"

"What's that noise," asked Ron abruptly, his nose scrunched in concentration. "It's bloody annoying, whatever it is."

The tinny whistle continued as the trio quietly searched the carriage. They found the defective sneakoscope and silenced it in an old pair of socks for fear of it waking Professor Lupin. Rather than return to the rather disheartening topic of Black, the three shifted easily to talk of their upcoming trips to Hogsmeade. Zhen settled back in her seat beside Hermione, opening the pet basket beside her and scooping a dozy Ming out and pouring him onto her lap. With only a modicum of protest the cat settled itself on her lap, purring loudly as Zhen listened to the trio's conversation.

The three friends spoke with the comfort and easy rhythm of friends who have done so many times and Zhen was certain it was no accident that Ron and Hermione had abandoned the topic of Black at the sight of Harry's tears. Zhen rarely interjected, very much aware of the outsider she was as the three friends plotted a way to get Harry into Hogsmeade without his permission slip.

Yet, she didn't feel uncomfortable. They weren't purposefully ignoring her, just so used to the patterns of conversation their friendship had forged that they naturally omitted her. Zhen simply enjoyed sitting with them. Having been raised in the main house of the Li clan compound she'd never had friends her own age. Her cousins had all been a great deal older than her and while she loved them all – even Xiao Lang's four sisters – it was a pleasing change of pace to be among people her own age.

"Is that your familiar Zhen?" Zhen nodded, her fingers carding through Ming's long white fur. "He's beautiful. You know, I just got a cat myself when we were in Diagon Alley. His name is Crookshanks."

"That's not a cat, that's a demon," Ron grumbled. "Oi, Hermione! You're not going to take him out in here are you? Scabbers nearly died the last time that monster was free."

Hermione bent to the floor where a basket much like Zhen's sat slumped against the bench.

"Crookshanks has just as much right to be here as Scabbers, Ron," Hermione retorted icily and unfastened the buckles on the basket.

Zhen watched as a massive ginger cat leapt nimbly out of the basket and onto Ron's lap. The knot in Ron's shirt pocket quivered.

"Rat or toad, Ron," Zhen asked.

"Rat," Ron snapped, but Zhen could tell that this time his anger was directed at the oversized feline on his lap. "He'll be a dead rat if this overgrown furball has his way."

"Ron, stop being so cruel!"

A snort from Professor Lupin silenced the pair and all four of them eyed the man warily. He merely readjusted and slept on. Ron sighed in relief, eying Crookshanks distastefully before shoving him unceremoniously onto the floor. Hermione stuck out her tongue and called to the ginger mass which promptly hopped into her lap, its eyes fixed on the lump in Ron's shirt.

"What's his name, Zhen," Harry asked, rolling his eyes as his two friends made faces at each other.

"Ming, Ming Yue."

"Is that Chinese," Harry asked and Zhen nodded. "What does it mean?"

"Bright Moon."

"It certainly suits him," said Harry, stretching out a hand to the feline in Zhen's lap. "I've never seen a cat with eyes like his."

"It's a little creepy if you ask me," Ron said. "Feel as if he's looking right through me."

"Ron!"

Zhen laughed.

"It's all right, Hermione. I've got a friend that feels the same way," Zhen explained, suddenly very conscious of the warmth of Kero tucked away in her jumper pocket. "Ming is an extremely perceptive cat, to the point he'll follow commands."

Even Ron was impressed with that.

"So are you nervous about Hogwarts, Zhen?" Hermione glanced at her as she scratched Crookshanks' chin. The ginger mass rumbled happily. "What house are you hoping to be in?"

"I guess I'm not really nervous now that I'm on my way. As for what house, I don't really care. My grandparents are convinced I'll be in Ravenclaw. Every Parish for more than ten generations has been, so I guess I'm not really hoping for a particular house, but I expect I'll be in Ravenclaw."

"Anything's all right I 'spose as long as it's not Slytherin," Ron conceded, pulling a face when he mentioned the house of snakes. He grinned and Zhen was pleased to find the redhead warming to her. "Gryffindor's still the best though."

Zhen laughed and Hermione began gushing about what it might have been like to be sorted into Ravenclaw with others who placed as much stock in academics as she did. Her pointed look at the two boys across from her suggested at least two of her fellow Gryffindors did not. This had led to yet another argument between Ron and Hermione, at which Harry shook his head and Zhen giggled.

The argument passed quickly like a summer squall blowing down from the mountains and Zhen spent the rest of her ride being regaled with tales of their first two years, including their clandestine exploits involving the Sorcerer's Stone and the Chamber of Secrets. Harry had protested at first, but Ron had convinced him that Zhen would hear it once she got to Hogwarts anyway, so she might as well hear it straight from the horse's mouth. Zhen had agreed and listened eagerly, suspecting given the number of times Harry turned red as the story was told – mainly by Ron – that the reason he hadn't wanted to tell her was because he didn't like how much their exploits brought him into the spotlight.

The three were just telling her about Harry catching the snitch in his mouth at the end of his first quidditch match when the door slid open and a slender boy with white blond hair stepped inside, his face drawn into a condescending sneer. The trio frowned and Zhen guessed without being introduced that the boy was Draco Malfoy.

"Should have known you'd get your claws into the poor girl first, Potter," the boy snarled. "She'll be irreversibly stricken after having spent so much time with you."

"What do you want, Malfoy," Ron growled.

"Calm yourself Weasel. I simply came to introduce myself to one of our new students."

Zhen blinked, startled and the trio stared at the boy, gaping openly. Obviously the boy meant her. He turned toward her, his sneer melting into a self-assured smile as he held out his hand.

"Draco Malfoy at your service, Miss Li. It is a great pleasure to make your acquaintance." Zhen took the boy's hand, eying him warily. He knew who she was. Why? "My father informed me that you would be attending this year and I have been looking forward to meeting you. After all, we purebloods must stand together. Keep out the rift raft and all that."

Zhen noticed as he said rift raft his eyes flicked to Hermione, whose cheeks flushed a blotchy pink. Her stomach clenched and she released Draco's cool hand with a quick press.

"The honour of our meeting is mine," she replied politely, but didn't return his smile. "However, I fear you may find we are not as like-minded as you believe, Draco."

The boy's smile faltered, his silver eyes sharpening like steel.

"How so?"

"I do not let bloodlines decide my associations."

Red crept up the boy's neck above his collar, colouring his face as he glared at Zhen.

"Maybe you should leave, Malfoy," Harry suggested quietly.

Draco's sneer returned.

"Maybe you should mind your own bloody business, Potter!"

Ron was on his feet in an instant, hands fisted at his sides. Zhen glanced at the two boys anxiously, but before either could speak Ming landed on Professor Lupin's chest. The man woke with a hoarse holler, grabbing her familiar around the shoulders and hurling him into the air. Ming landed with a soft thud on the back of Zhen and Hermione's bench, unperturbed as the professor looked about wildly.

"Professor! Are you all right?" Zhen scrambled across the bench toward the man, glaring at her familiar as she passed him. "I'm so sorry! Ming's never done anything like that before."

The professor sat, bent at the waist, his face hidden behind his slender fingers as his shoulders heaved. Zhen glanced at the trio nervously, noticing that Draco had abruptly disappeared, taking his two mountainous shadows with him.

"Professor," Hermione whispered.

Professor Lupin straightened, his head resting against the wall and slid his hands down his face, revealing a broad smile. He was laughing so hard he could barely breathe and Zhen heaved a sigh of relief.

"I'm fine, children," he gasped, one arm wrapped around his abdomen. "In fact, I'm better than fine. I haven't laughed so hard in years." He sighed and slumped in his seat wearily. "Now, precisely what is it that woke me? I didn't get a good look. Just a flash of white."

Zhen felt her cheeks warm.

"It was my familiar Ming, sir," she explained, pointing to the cat at her shoulder that was staring serenely at Zhen's professor. "I'm sorry. He's never done that before."

"Maybe he was trying to get rid of Malfoy for you," Ron suggested with a grin. "I know I was glad to see him go."

"Ron!"

Professor Lupin smiled good-naturedly at Hermione's ire.

"That's actually not outside the realm of possibility, young man," he said and Ron looked at him as if he had sprouted wings and said he was a dragon. "Familiars can be much attuned to the feelings and desires of their masters. If Ming felt his master was being threatened, it's not unimaginable that he would do something to protect her, although I would have thought pouncing on the boy might have been a more apt solution to the problem."

"Sorry, Professor," Zhen managed, her cheeks still hot.

Professor Lupin shook his head.

"Never you mind, there was no harm done, aside from stopping my heart momentarily." The professor grinned. "Now, it seems as if you all know who I am, but as yet I've no names for any of you."

Each of the trio introduced themselves in turn and was greeted with enthusiasm by their newest professor. Zhen was last and sitting closest to the professor, she offered him her hand.

"Zhen Li, it's a pleasure to meet you, Sir."

"Likewise, I'm sure." The Professor's handshake was firm, but Zhen noticed a flash of indecision in his amber eyes. It passed quickly and his gentle warmth returned. "Forgive me, Zhen, but would you be of any relation to Lian Li?"

Zhen nodded.

"She's my mother. Do you know her, Sir?"

"Indeed I do. Regrettably, we've not seen each other in person for years, but we still exchange letters. I thought it was you. It doesn't seem possible that you're already off to Hogwarts." He made a sour face. "You're making me feel old."

Zhen grinned.

"Did you know my father as well, Sir?"

Professor Lupin nodded, the lines around his eyes deepening as his smile became sad.

"We were at Hogwarts together. He was a couple of years ahead of me, but I was a prefect the year he was made Head Boy so we spent quite a bit of time together."

"Did you know my parents then, Sir? Zhen's mum said her father and mine were at school together, just a couple of years apart. Their names were James Potter and Lily Evans."

Harry looked as if he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer to his own question. Professor Lupin paled, his expression pained as he turned his eyes to Harry. He opened his mouth and then shut it, swallowing slowly, his voice a mere whisper when he managed to speak.

"I know their names, Harry."

Harry's eyes lit with excitement and Zhen hoped it wouldn't be in vain. The Potters were famous for their deaths if not their lives. Professor Lupin kneaded his left wrist with the thumb of his right hand, his lips tight, and his shoulders rigid, but he his amber gaze didn't falter. He kept Harry's pleading stare. Nodding as if in answer to some unheard question, Professor Lupin cleared his throat and spoke.

"I know their names, Harry, because they were two of my dearest friends."

"Then you must also have known, Black."

Hermione's hands flew to her mouth, but it was too late. The professor's expression darkened, his eyes hardening as he turned to Hermione.

"Why do you say that, Hermione?"

Hermione looked torn between truth and tears, her eyes flicking to Zhen and then back to Professor Lupin. Slowly, she unclamped her hands.

"I uh, well, Zhen told us that Black was a friend of Harry's parents. I-I ju-just assumed if you were as well that you must have known him."

Hermione's gaze dropped to the massive feline on her lap, her coffee curls hiding her face. Zhen laid her hand on the elder girl's forearm.

"Where did you hear that, Zhen?"

The professor's question wasn't sharp or accusing. If anything he sounded broken and exhausted as he scrubbed his face with the heels of his hands.

"My grandfather told me."

Professor Lupin chuckled and the tension that Black's name had brought dissipated at the sound.

"I should have known. Only a Parish could so artfully interfere in Dumbledore's plans and succeed. I swear you lot are part Slytherin." Professor Lupin stretched out his long legs, returning to the reclined position in which they'd first found him as he pushed his long auburn bangs out of his eyes. "Dumbledore is well aware of the relationship I had with your parents and Black, Harry. However, it was his intention that you not find out."

"Why would he keep something like that from me," Harry exploded, standing to pace and finding no room, he threw himself back down onto the bench. "Why wouldn't he want me to know that you were friends with my parents? I mean, I could finally learn about who they were and what they were like."

A small, slightly lopsided smile tugged at Professor Lupin's lips.

"I think he rather feared you might do something overly Gryffindor."

"What does that mean," Harry demanded waspishly.

"I think he means something foolishly brave, Harry," Hermione clarified.

Harry's cheeks reddened and he relaxed in his seat, deflated and mildly sheepish.

"Precisely," Professor Lupin agreed. "I'm afraid blind bravery was one of the house traits that your father demonstrated devotedly and it's likely the headmaster fears it's a trait you've inherited."

"I don't think it's so much that he fears it as he knows it," Ron offered cheekily, elbowing Harry in the ribs when the brunet scowled at him. "Come on, mate. You've got to admit we've seen more than our share of trouble in two years."

"I would say that James would be proud to know you've been causing mischief, but when he became a father he lost much of his penchant for troublemaking. I dare say his fear of you coming to harm would have overridden any amount of prankster pride he might have felt. When you first learned to walk he chased you around conjuring pillows for days."

"C-could you tell me about him, Sir," Harry asked quietly, brushing the moisture from the corners of his eyes. "Why do you say Dad was a troublemaker? W-was it because of the bullying?"

Professor Lupin's eager expression fell away and was replaced with one of regret.

"No, Harry, and I'm sorry to learn you know about that. Did Professor Snape tell you? I'm afraid he seemed to draw the brunt of your father's cruelty."

"No, Lian told me," Harry mumbled miserably. "Snape never said a word. Although it's no secret he doesn't like me much."

"No wonder, Harry, if your father bullied him," Hermione pointed out.

Harry nodded.

"James did apologize," Professor Lupin said quietly, "but I think by then the damage had been done. He didn't blame Severus for not being able to forgive him.

"However, that was not the point of my story," explained Professor Lupin, smiling encouragingly at Harry. "Your father was a prankster extraordinaire. No one could stand against him, with one notable exception." Professor Lupin nodded at Zhen. "Your father was the only one who could stand up to James and his compatriots, the only one who could outsmart them. He made James regret his actions more than once."

Zhen beamed, her vision blurring as Professor Lupin described an incident in his third year between her father and James Potter that had left the latter limping for a week. She glanced at Harry and caught his eye as he ran the back of his hand over his eyes. The boy smiled faintly. Zhen wondered if he found it as interesting as she did that their fathers had once been friends – albeit friends of a rather adversarial nature.

"Richard was brilliant, as any good Ravenclaw should be, but he had courage and nerve to rival James'. James always said Richard had been sorted into the wrong house, that he was really one of us."

"Us, sir," Hermione prompted timidly.

Professor Lupin's grin broadened.

"A Gryffindor, of course."

"You were in Gryffindor, sir?"

"Of course."

The trio grinned and Zhen groaned.

"I think I've walked into the lions' den."

The others laughed. Ron started to speak, but got no further than the first syllable of what became an unintelligible word. His tongue seemed to catch and his face drained of color as the train lanterns flickered. Zhen shut her eyes, fighting a wave of nausea as beneath their feet the train wheels shrieked and the train lurched to a stop. It wasn't the sudden stop that made her ill though. The air in the compartment was suffused with dark magic, darker than anything Zhen had felt before. It was like ice knifing through her veins.

She glanced at the trio. Their faces were ashen, but their confusion told Zhen they weren't aware of what was causing their discomfort as the lights flickered again and then went dark. The eerie silence of the train amplified the sounds of its occupants and Zhen heard muted voices coming from some of the other compartments.

"What's going on," Harry's voice asked from the darkness. "Maybe I should go—

"No." Professor Lupin's voice was sharp. "No, Harry, you will stay here, all of you. None of you are to leave this compartment is that understood?" A strange crackling sound came from Professor Lupin's corner of the compartment and Zhen opened one eye warily, taking small comfort in the tiny blue flame cupped in the man's hand. "I can't believe they were allowed on the train," he muttered. "Dumbledore couldn't have approved this."

"Sir, do you know what's going on," Hermione's disembodied voice asked from the shadows to Zhen's left.

"It's the Azkaban guards, the dementors," Professor Lupin answered grimly. "Stay here I'm going to go out and have a chat with them."

The fire went out. Zhen felt the man pass her and as he did Hermione seized her hand. She squeezed the girl's hand reassuringly as the professor opened the door. There was a fleshy thud, followed by a stuttered apology.

"Neville?"

"Harry? Do you know what's going on?"

"Professor Lupin says it's the Azkaban guards," Harry explained. "Don't suppose you could let him up?"

"Eep! S-s-orry P-prof-fessor."

"Not to worry, Neville," Professor Lupin grunted, the scuffing of feet and change in air suggesting the two had found their feet. "There, now you stay here with the others until I get back."

The door slid open again and Ron's sister charged inside. Professor Lupin managed to keep his feet this time, but Zhen's awareness of the others in the compartment was fading. Her face was slick with cold sweat and her hands were weak. Her eyes were no longer closed by choice and her limbs felt weighted as she tried to reach for her sword and the ofuda she had tucked in her pocket before leaving her grandparents' house that morning.

Vaguely, she registered Kero squirming vigorously in her pocket and heard his gasp of relief as he freed himself. Her tiny guardian shimmied up her right arm until he was perched on her shoulder. The warmth of his small paw brushing against her cheek brought a momentary relief, before Zhen was pounded with another wave of dark magic. Whatever these dementors were, they were powerful.

"Hang in there, Zhen," he whispered in her ear, his voice unheard beneath the frightened muddle of the other occupants of the car as Professor Lupin slipped into the hallway. Zhen took a shuddering breath and licked her lips. "Come on kid, hold on."

Zhen felt a flash of warmth trail down her spine from her temple where Kero's paw rested and she relished in the soothing comfort of her guardian's magic.

"Kero, what are they," Zhen managed weakly in Chinese. "Professor Lupin called them dementors. Have you ever heard of them?"

"No, but whatever they are, they're no friend of ours," Kero whispered, his paw stroking the edge of her hairline as Zhen tried to fight the overwhelming darkness of the Azkaban guards. "They've got some serious dark magic too. Only the most powerful magical creatures can affect their surroundings with just their presence." Zhen nodded. Breathing had become painful. "Don't worry, Zhen, if they want to hurt you they'll have to go through me first."

Zhen smiled, hearing the strain in her guardian's voice. They both knew his powers – although substantial in this form – were limited. Zhen also knew that Kero would keep his word. He would die to protect her, as would Ming. She would have flinched at Ming's touch if she had the energy to spare when her familiar nimbly climbed into her lap. His extended claws pricked at her skin and he growled lowly, his tail switching furiously against Zhen's chest as he hissed at the compartment door.

Zhen fought to open her eyes as the door slid open, barely succeeding. Hermione stiffened and Zhen's heart stopped at the sight of the hooded figure floating in the open doorway. Its face was hidden in the shadow of its rotting hood, but Zhen could feel its eyes pass over her like the brush of a feather against her skin. She shivered. The creature drew a mangled breath and Zhen was plunged into an icy abyss as Ming yowled angrily and leapt at the creature, only to be batted into the hallway. Her eyelids fluttered as the creature began bleeding their magic. Zhen tried to lift her hand, to open her mouth to tell it to stop as she watched the glittering spectrum of magic drawn from them turn into useless dust. She felt the dementor smile and heard it draw another rasping breath.

This time, Zhen could not fight. She fell into the darkness, its long fingers digging into her flesh as the bench beneath her dissolved into hard stone. Her chest constricted painfully. She knew this place. She knew the heat pooling around her knees and the soft palm clutched against her cheek. Foggy emerald eyes looked up at her, a gentle smile softening the cool lips as blood flowed steadily from the deep incision in her chest. The woman's frame was too thin, the shadows under her eyes dark. She had been sick, too sick to fight off her attacker. It was then that Zhen remembered, remembered why she was here. Sakura Kinomoto, Mistress of the Clow Cards, was dead.

"No!"

Zhen sat bolt upright, her cry tearing at her throat. Why was her throat so sore? She tried to focus, but the pressure in her head was too much. She fell back, registering an arm around her shoulders that prevented her from hitting her head off the ground. Slowly the pressure relented and the shadows at the edge of her vision receded. She was moving, or rather, whatever she was sitting on was. The rhythmic churning and the gentle rocking were almost enough to lull her to sleep.

The train. She'd been on the Hogwarts Express. She frowned, blinking rapidly to try and clear her mind. That wasn't right. She'd been in the courtyard with Sakura's body. She could still feel the warmth of Sakura's blood as it clung to her knees. No, that wasn't right. It wasn't blood, it was a cloak. Zhen groaned and closed her eyes, wishing her mind weren't so jumbled. She shivered. Why was she so cold?

"Zhen? Zhen can you hear us?"

The voice was female, concerned.

"Zhen, you need to open your eyes." This voice was deeper, chafed, but warm. "Zhen, I know you can hear me. Open your eyes again."

"We're nearly at Hogwarts. Will she be ok until then, Professor?"

An image of a boy with red hair and a smattering of freckles flashed in Zhen's mind.

"She'll be fine, Ron, although I would feel much better if she would wake fully. She seems to be having even more trouble than you, Harry."

The wisps of thought swirling in Zhen's mind came to a firm and complete halt. She could almost feel her mind gaining purchase as her thoughts began to fall into place. Hogwarts. She was on the Hogwarts Express on her way to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Ron. Ron Weasley and the girl's voice belonged to Hermione Granger. Harry. Harry Potter, her friend. She and her grandparents had escorted him to the station because he was being hunted by the murderer Sirius Black. The voice closest to her ear, the soft baritone, belonged to their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Remus Lupin.

A swell of panic rose in her chest and Zhen finally managed to force her eyes open. Professor Lupin had said Harry was having trouble.

"H-harry?"

Her voice cracked as she tried to orient herself. The light of the lamps hurt her eyes and she was reminded of them extinguishing in the presence of the dementors. Something shifted beneath her and Zhen's eyes flicked to her right, surprised to find herself cradled against Professor Lupin. The man's carmel eyes softened as he met her gaze, relief easing his strained features.

"Harry's right here, Zhen. I'm sure he would come see you, but he's a bit queasy himself at the moment."

Zhen's eyes followed Professor Lupin's and came to rest on Harry. The boy was slumped against the wall next to the door, his face the color of chalk and gleaming with sweat. He looked as if he'd just swallowed a bludger and Zhen imagined she looked much the same.

She let her gaze wander and found the others in similar states of fear, their pallid faces tight as they looked at her. Ginny seemed too scared to be angry with her any more, for which Zhen was glad. The pudgy boy beside her looked at her with a startling amount of kindness for a stranger. He must be Neville, Zhen decided, closing her eyes again. She was so tired, so cold.

"Zhen, you need to stay awake," Professor Lupin's voice was loud against her ear as the man pulled her up so that she was sitting. Zhen opened her eyes blearily, nearly in tears. Why couldn't he just let her sleep? "Eat this, it will help."

Zhen stared at the object in his hand, realizing it was a piece of chocolate as she took it. Her eyes flicked to Harry and the boy nodded, mustering a wobbly smile of encouragement. Zhen nibbled at the chocolate and felt warmth rush through her body. After a few bites, during which time no one said anything, Zhen ventured a comment, feeling much more herself.

"Dementors have officially been added to my list of magical creatures to avoid." Behind her Professor Lupin managed a quiet chuckle and Zhen was pleased to see guarded smiles on the faces of the others. "Was I the only who passed out?"

Harry flinched.

"No, Harry did as well."

Zhen frowned, taking another bite of chocolate.

"Why were only Harry and I so affected, Professor?"

Professor Lupin stiffened and cleared his throat, his voice tight.

"That you and Harry were so affected would suggest," Professor Lupin hesitated, clearing his throat again before continuing. "It would suggest that you have both experienced more than your share of sorrow and pain." The man frowned. "Dementors are the foulest creatures on earth. They feed off human happiness, leaving only pain, despair, hurt, and sorrow. The more of these negative emotions a person has experienced in their lifetime, the more potent the dementors' effect."

Zhen nodded and having finished her chocolate, shyly rested her head against the professor's chest, too tired to hold it up any longer. Professor Lupin started at the contact, but didn't push her away. Zhen closed her eyes, taking comfort in the scratchy wool warmth of the man's worn jumper against her cheek. Behind her she could hear Hermione comforting a sobbing Ginny. The boys were silent. She wondered absently where Ming was and as if in answer felt him rub against her hand, purring softly. Zhen smiled, pleased the dementor hadn't harmed him and allowed herself to slip into the soothing warmth of semi-consciousness.

Soon the train began to slow and Zhen opened her eyes, knowing in her mind that she had to move, but her body seemed unwilling to cooperate. Professor Lupin seemed sense her quandary and lifted her up onto her feet, the strength and ease of his movements surprising Zhen given how thin he was. Draping the cloak he had wrapped around her legs over his arm Professor Lupin guided her to the carriage door, steadying her against the hurried jostling of her fellow students. Zhen paused at the steps, her already quavering knees weakening even further at the sight of them.

Behind her, Professor Lupin knelt and deftly scooped her up into his arms. Zhen flushed, feeling very much the spectacle she was as her professor carried her down the steps and deposited her on a bench at the edge of the platform. Through the pelting rain Zhen caught a hulking figure wielding a massive lantern bellowing for the first years and watched as a small trickle of students looking as nervous as Zhen felt slowly broke from the crowd to chase him. Zhen glanced at Professor Lupin questioningly and the man sighed, his eyes fixed on the massive figure at the far end of the platform.

"I'm sorry, Zhen, but given your response to the dementors, I'd rather you stay with me until Madame Pomfrey can have a look at you."

Zhen looked longingly after her fellow first years as they followed the large man to the lake. Gran had told her about the boat ride for the first years, about the wonder of getting to see the castle for the first time from the lake, and a part of Zhen resented Professor Lupin for depriving her of the experience. Her resentment lasted only an instant when she saw the man's miserable expression. He obviously wasn't any more pleased with his decision than she was.

"Wait here just a moment, Zhen. I'm going to let Hagrid know that you'll be riding with me."

Zhen nodded, shivering as she watched Professor Lupin stride off after the giant man.

"You ok," Harry asked as he slouched onto the bench beside her.

"I'll be fine," Zhen assured him with more confidence then she felt with her teeth chattering. "You?"

"Yeah, I'm ok," the boy nodded. "I just—

Harry stopped himself abruptly as if he'd nearly said too much. He kicked at the platform with the toe of his sneaker, eying the train dejectedly.

"What is it, Harry," Zhen prompted quietly. "Please, tell me."

Harry glanced at her and sighed.

"I just wish I hadn't fainted," he admitted exasperatedly. "It will just give everyone another reason to stare at me."

Remembering the looks she'd received when Professor Lupin had carried her off the train, Zhen understood all too well. It felt like being put on display for everyone to see you at your worst moment. As if you had no secrets. Being the boy-who-lived Harry had endured far more scrutiny in his life than Zhen had, especially last year when the entire school had thought him to be the heir of Slytherin. She wanted to comfort him, to assure him that no one would stare, but she knew that wasn't true. Already the students were eying them as they piled into the carriages that stood waiting to whisk them away to the castle. Zhen sighed, feeling very inadequate and looped her arm over Harry's shoulders. Harry looked startled and Zhen smiled wanly.

"If they're going to stare at us, they may as well stare at us together. That way we'll never have to know for sure which of us they're actually staring at."

Harry smiled, relaxing beside her.

"Thanks."

"Ready, Zhen?"

Zhen looked up at Professor Lupin, nodding as she got to her feet, her arm still tucked around Harry as he stood. Together they chased Professor Lupin to one of the waiting carriages, Zhen doing her best to ignore the strange creatures pulling them as Harry hopped inside, pulling Zhen up behind him. Professor Lupin slid into the seat across from them and the door banged shut as the carriage lumbered up the road toward Hogwarts.

"I believe this belongs to you, Zhen," Professor Lupin said, digging into the pocket of his jumper and drawing out a small yellow lion. Zhen gasped and took Kero from her professor. "I found him on the floor next to you when I returned to the compartment."

"Thank you, Professor."

Zhen tucked Kero carefully into her pocket, pleased when she felt him wriggling to find a comfortable position. Obviously he hadn't been hurt by the dementors.

"Look Zhen, there's the castle."

Zhen leaned forward and poked her head out the carriage window, her breath stolen by the magnificent fortress of stone and light as its spires rose up from behind the gates. She felt a flicker of fear as they passed the dementors guarding the gate, but pushed it aside as the carriage came to a stop in front of a wide stone staircase. Professor Lupin stepped out first, watching protectively as Harry dropped unsteadily to ground. Zhen looked at the ground and then back to Professor Lupin, very much aware of her own limitations.

"Professor, could you?"

The man nodded with a sad smile and lifted Zhen out of the carriage and onto the ground. Zhen had just opened her mouth to thank him when a voice smooth as steel rose above the din of the students making their way inside.

"Potter fainted?" Zhen's stomach sank between her hips, her eyes instantly finding Harry where he'd joined Ron and Hermione at the bottom of the steps. In front of them stood Draco, a cruel smile cutting across his pale face as he looked down at Harry. "Were the big scary dementors too much for you, Potter? I notice you're the only one who couldn't handle it."

"He is not." Malfoy blanched, obviously not expecting Zhen's retort as she wove doggedly through the crowd toward them. "I fainted as well. In fact, I had to be carried off the train and out of the carriage. Would you like to laugh at that as well, Draco?"

The blond boy's smile had been replaced with a startled expression, his eyes darting to the some of the other students that had stopped when Zhen had called out to him. She was being loud and she knew it. If Draco was going to be a royal git to Harry, then people should know about it. A few of the Slytherins were smirking at their housemate's gloating jibe, but Zhen noted that most of the students were looking at the boy with disapproval.

"There is no honour in highlighting another person's weakness, Draco," Zhen informed the boy quietly.

Draco said nothing. Setting his jaw firmly he turned with a snap of his robes and stormed up the castle steps.

"You didn't have to do that," Harry said softly. "Now everyone is going to know what happened to you."

Zhen smiled.

"There is no honour in highlighting the weakness of another, but it is in admitting our own weakness that we gain true strength."

"What?"

"What Zhen means, Ron, is that by admitting her weakness in front of Draco when he was trying to exploit it, she came out looking like the better person."

"Oh, sorry."

Zhen smiled.

"I'm not upset, Ron, but maybe you could make it up to me by helping me up these stairs before my knees give out? I feel like I'm walking on jelly."

The redhead nodded earnestly, bending so that Zhen could drape her arm over his shoulders. Hermione took the other arm, fussing as Ron assured her crossly that Zhen was not going to die from weak knees.

* * *

Minerva scanned the faces of the students pouring in through the doors to the Great Hall, more agitated with each second that passed and the two faces she hoped to see most failed to appear. Outwardly, her face was a mask of stern calm, but those who knew her well would see the concern lurking in her green eyes. She'd been the one to receive Remus' letter from the train informing her that both Harry and Zhen had collapsed after the dementors had boarded. At the time he'd sent the letter Zhen had still been unconscious, although Harry had woken and seemed to be rallying. However, Minerva would not allow herself to be relieved until she saw that the boy was well with her own two eyes.

Zhen was another case altogether. It had only been half an hour since the letter had arrived, but it had been more than enough time for Minerva to conjure images of the poor girl's lifeless form being carried through the castle doors. Only Albus had been able to persuade her to stay here at the castle and wait for their arrival. He had insisted that Remus was capable of tending to them both. Minerva had conceded that Remus had been one of her most gifted students, but when it came to the care of her children, she trusted no one but herself, not even Albus.

Finally she caught sight of her newest colleague's lithe frame amidst the crushing riptide of students. Minerva frowned, her concern momentarily transferring to the young man across the hall. Remus was far too thin, much thinner than he had been during his time at Hogwarts as her student. He hadn't aged well either. His hair was already greying and the lines around his eyes and mouth ran deep, although she realized as the man began making his way toward her, that some of what she had assumed to be age lines were actually scars. Her frown deepened. He might be an adult, but Remus had once been one of her children as well. It bothered her to see him looking so unwell, but given the situation regarding Zhen and Harry, Minerva decided it would be best to wait and ask Albus about it later.

"Hello, Professor," the young man greeted warmly, offering her a worn smile. "I'm pleased to report that both Harry and Zhen seem to be recovering, although it would be wise to have Madame Pomfrey examine them. Zhen in particular seems to be having some trouble shaking off the weakness that can often be a side effect of dementor exposure. Dementors can really take the wind out of you if you're not used to dealing with them."

Minerva scowled.

"If it were up to me those wretched beasts wouldn't come within a hundred yards of any of our children," she growled. "Albus was livid when he found they'd boarded the train. We're lucky you were there, Remus. It's hard to say how far those monsters would have gone had you not run them off."

"They went far enough as it was. I left the compartment to deal with one and another boarded the train and entered the compartment where the children were sitting. If Miss Weasley hadn't screamed, I might have been too late."

Minerva recognized a flash of guilt in the young wizard's eyes and discreetly laid her hand on his forearm.

"You weren't too late, Remus. That is what counts."

Remus nodded.

"Thank you, Professor."

Minerva arched her brow, offering the man a thin smile.

"I am no longer your professor, Remus. I am your colleague. Minerva will serve just fine."

"Of course, P- Minerva." Remus chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "That won't be easy to get used to."

"You'll adjust I'm sure. Now, why don't you take your place at the High Table? I'll see to Miss Li and Mr Potter."

Astute as always Remus recognized his dismissal and began picking his way through the clusters of upper year students toward the head table. Minerva did not miss the scathing glare Severus sent in Remus' direction, but dismissed it quickly at the sight of Zhen being helped through the doors by Miss Granger and Mr Weasley. Harry was a step behind. The four stepped to the side of the doors to the Great Hall allowing the rest of the stragglers to trickle in past them. They seemed uncertain and Minerva realized they were probably wondering what to do with Zhen as she'd been sent ahead of the other first years.

"Miss Li! Mr Potter!"

All four heads snapped in her direction as she waded against the tide of students toward the four. Mr Weasley and Miss Granger still looked a bit gray, but their concern was focused on Zhen as the younger girl leaned heavily on the youngest Weasley boy. Harry looked positively wretched and Zhen looked little better. Their skin still held a waxy pallor that made them look uncomfortably frail to Minerva's measuring gaze. They would definitely be visiting the hospital wing.

"Hello, Professor," Zhen greeted her warmly, although Minerva noted the enthusiasm she'd seen in the girl during their first meeting was painfully absent. "Could you tell me where I should be? Professor Lupin didn't want me riding in the boats with the others because of the dementors."

"A wise decision," Minerva stated. "Mr Weasley, if you would go find your place in the hall." Minerva knew her tone made her suggestion a command, but the boy was hesitant. Minerva rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to harm them, Mr Weasley."

The boy jumped, obviously not expecting Minerva to catch his hesitance. Carefully, he slid Zhen's arm over his shoulder and the girl leaned more heavily against Miss Granger in his absence.

"Can you make it up a few flights of stairs, Miss Li? Or shall I conjure a stretcher?"

Zhen's eyes widened and she shook her head vehemently.

"No, thank you, Professor, I can walk."

Minerva eyed the girl doubtfully, but nodded, leading the three up the stairs to her private office. She opened the door, conjuring three chairs with a quick flick of her wand, and took her seat behind her desk. Miss Granger stationed herself beside Zhen, her hand never leaving the younger girl's arm as the three eyed her uneasily.

"Professor Lupin sent word of what happened with the dementors Mr Potter, Miss Li. I only wanted to make sure that you are both all right."

"I'm fine," Harry snapped impatiently.

Minerva arched a brow at the boy and he squirmed uncomfortably as a knock sounded on the door. Poppy Pomfrey bustled in without waiting to be asked. Minerva had summoned her. Harry's pallid features reddened at the sight of the school nurse.

"Professor, please. I'm perfectly fine," the boy protested, only serving to gain Poppy's full attention.

"Ah, Mr Potter. I should have known it would be you. Just what kind of trouble have you managed in only five minutes inside the castle?"

Minerva cleared her throat.

"The dementors boarded the train, Poppy," she explained quietly. "Both Mr Potter and Miss Li were quite affected."

Minerva was unsurprised to see the mediwitch's face darken. Posting the dementors around the school grounds had not been a popular decision among the staff.

"I'm fine," Harry reiterated, brushing off Poppy's hand when she pressed it to his forehead. "But Zhen's still having trouble walking."

Poppy's eyes narrowed and she turned to the young girl. Her eyes flicked to Minerva and Minerva nodded, watching as Poppy's expression softened slightly as she knelt in front of Zhen.

"First year?" Zhen nodded wordlessly as Poppy laid her hand on the girl's forehead and felt her pulse. "Yes, you're as clammy as Mr Potter. Letting dementors on school grounds. I never. In all my years—"

"What should be done, Poppy," Minerva asked, interrupting the rant she could sense brewing in her colleague. "Do they need to spend the night in the hospital wing?"

"Really, I'm all right." It was Zhen this time. The girl looked from the meditwitch to Minerva and back again. "I am a little wobbly, but other than that I think I just need something to eat. The chocolate Professor Lupin gave us helped a lot."

"Chocolate? Finally, a defence professor worth his salt."

Minerva allowed herself a small moment of pride. Poppy's compliments were nearly as rare as hers, but Remus had always been one of her best students. To know that he was already proving himself as a professor pleased her, especially given how little the younger man thought of himself. Poppy fussed a moment longer, but ultimately conceded to let the two go.

"You make sure you come and see me if the weakness gets any worse, Miss Li. I'll not have you collapsing on your first day of classes," Poppy warned firmly. "That applies to you as well, Mr Potter."

The two agreed and Minerva nodded her thanks as Poppy left.

"Mr Potter, perhaps you would see Miss Li back to the Great Hall? You might still be in time to have her sorted while I have a word with Miss Granger."

"Thanks, Professor."

Minerva nodded, admitting only to herself that she was immensely relieved to find the pair well. Part of the reason she was so stern with her students was because she did care, far too much, if her opinion counted for anything. It made it desperately painful to see them come to harm. If she could, she would take their place, although she knew that wasn't possible. And given what she knew of Zhen and Harry, dementors were the least of her worries.

* * *

"Watch your step there," Harry cautioned as they hurried down the last flight of stairs. "That step tends to disappear."

Zhen glanced over her shoulder, noting that in fact the step had disappeared. She smiled to herself. Granddad had said this place was full of surprises. She was simply grateful that Professor McGonagall had let Harry come with her. Without him she'd never have found the Great Hall in time. As it was, she heard her name being called just as they reached the entrance hall. Harry grabbed her hand and put on an extra burst of speed, hauling her the last few feet through the doors to the Great Hall.

"Right here, Sir," he called, skidding to a stop just inside the door. "Sorry, Profressor McGonagall wanted to see us."

Zhen stood next to Harry, her heart thudding in her ears. She wasn't sure if its furious rate was from their dash across the hall or from the fact that everyone in the room was staring at her, including the dour man standing next to a stool at the front of the room.

"I might have known she would be with you, Mr Potter," the man remarked with a silky coolness that made Zhen shiver. "Come then, Miss Li. Your classmates are waiting."

Zhen bristled at the man's obvious enmity. Professor McGonagall was stern, but this man was purely spiteful. Harry nudged her forward a step, flashing a reassuring smile as he took a seat on a bench next to Ron. Zhen hurried up the centre aisle, the hushed whispers that followed her rising to a dull roar as she neared the front. She caught the word dementor nearly every other step, but tried to ignore them as she slid onto the wooden stool beside the severe professor.

"Sorry, Professor Snape," she offered, catching a fleeting glimpse of surprise in the man's eyes – whether it was because she'd guessed his name or because she'd apologized she wasn't sure.

Regardless, he nodded curtly and placed the ratty hat on her head. Zhen shivered as the hat slid down over her eyes, its magic tickling her own as it searched her thoughts. She concentrated, pleased when she felt a small thread of consciousness. She latched onto it and focused all her thoughts.

_Hello._

A growl of amusement tickled her ears.

"Not many of you little brats figure out that you can talk to me. Most of you are so nervous you couldn't even if you tried. Makes sorting you monstrously difficult," the hat muttered, clearly irritated. "But you're not like the others, are you cardcaptor?"

Zhen smiled, unsurprised and unbothered that the hat could see her connection to the Clow Cards.

_No, I guess not._

"No indeed. You've the intelligence of your Parish sires and like them are blessed with the discernment to know how to make use of it. You would do well in Ravenclaw." The hat paused and Zhen could feel it sifting through her thoughts. "But your name is not Parish, is it? And the Lis are a very different breed. Strong, stubborn, protective, loyal and unwavering, even in the face of death. That would put you in a very different house, would it not? You've friends there already it seems."

_Gryffindor, then?_

The hat's rasping laughter echoed through her mind.

"Indeed, little cardcaptor, indeed. You shall do best among the lions, but I would have thought you'd have guessed that, given the true form of your protector. Had Keroberos been a raven, things might have been different." Zhen could see the hat's grin in dark. "Then again, maybe not."

_I don't mind being placed in Gryffindor._

"Of course you don't, it's where you belong. But before I let you go, I must tell you something." The hat slipped further over her face, his voice nothing more than a ticklish buzz when he spoke again. "Your presence here was not foreseen. You will change everything, irrevocably. Such is the way of those with power, like your friend Mr Potter and his compatriots. I know you've seen it. Perhaps your presence here will help them realize it." The hat sighed. "Who can say? Not me to be certain."

Zhen frowned.

_Will the change be for better or worse?_

"I know not. Now, best we get you out of here before Mr Potter and Mr Weasley try to stage your rescue, hm?" The hat smiled again and lifted its lip, letting in the dazzling light of the Great Hall as he bellowed, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Zhen blinked rapidly, trying to rid her eyes of coloured spots as the Gryffindor table cheered. Harry and the Weasleys – even Ginny – were her most enthusiastic supporters as she ran down the steps away from Snape and the cryptic hat. Her stomach was tangled in knots as Ron and Harry slid apart, letting her slip in between them. Professor Snape called for Katherine Nearing.

"I thought the hat was never going to let you go," Ron whispered as Nearing was quickly sorted into Hufflepuff and Ryan Oak was called. "You were up there forever."

"Planning to stage a rescue, Ron?"

Ron looked at her, mouth open wide.

"How did you—

Zhen grinned.

"The hat."

Harry looked at her sceptically.

"The hat told you Ron was planning a rescue?"

Zhen nodded.

"Well actually, he said you both were."

Harry shook his head.

"That hat knows too much for its own good."

Zhen turned back to the front of the Great Hall, watching as Marcia Summers was sorted into Gryffindor. Rather than focusing on the next student, Zhen found herself watching the hat. It winked at her, a slight wrinkling of the worn fabric, a minute change she'd have missed if she hadn't been watching, but it was wink.

Harry was right. That hat did know too much for its own good. Zhen only wished she could figure out _what_ it knew.

To be continued...

A/N – Please review! And stay tuned for the next chapter where we shall see Zhen's first day of classes, the arrival of the Clow Cards, and the discovery of a strange present for Harry.


	4. CH 3: Of Nightmares

An extensive knowledge of the anime/manga series isn't necessary to enjoy this story as it is set in Harry Potter's world and will focus on that timeline. All necessary knowledge of the series will be included in the story that follows. I hope you will enjoy it!

**Summary:** Sakura dies unexpectedly and Xiao Lang's cousin Zhen Li – a 1st year student at Hogwarts – becomes the next cardcaptor. While getting her supplies in Diagon Alley she meets Harry, changing his fate and hers as in the two become friends, perhaps more. Harry becomes Zhen's ally in capturing and protecting the Clow Cards. Zhen in turn helps Harry to discover the true power of the Chosen One, power he never would have believed he could possess, as he faces Sirius Black, the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and the Dark Lord himself. However, both are unaware that the mysterious sorceress hunting Zhen has joined forces with the Dark Lord, making Harry's task even more difficult. With two of the most powerful magical beings in existence as their adversaries and an unparalleled darkness rising Zhen and Harry struggle to sort friend from foe in a world where friends are enemies and enemies are friends. A wrong choice could mean their death.

AN - WOW! I never imagined my chapters could get any longer after the last one, yet here it is! Hope you all enjoy. I love hearing from you all. Reviews of all shapes, sizes, and denominations are welcome! My responses to any questions, comments etc will follow provided you have active PM accounts. Best wishes – Sierra.

Chapter 3: Of nightmares, Gryffindors, and required rooms.

"_No matter what you hear or see you must promise me that you will stay hidden, Zhen."_

"_No Sakura, please, don't go," Zhen pleaded, ignoring the tears coursing down her cheeks as she clung to the Clow Mistress. "You're sick. Your magic is almost gone. Please, don't go. Yue and Kero, they will keep us safe. Stay with me."_

_Sakura's smile was sad, her jade eyes bright with tears as she gently tugged at her robes, pulling them from Zhen's fisted hands. _

"_I wish that I could stay, Zhen, truly I do," Sakura assured, running her fingers through Zhen's hair. Zhen leaned into her soothing touch, trying to ignore the sounds of the battle being fought outside. "But I can't."_

_Zhen shook her head, grabbing desperately for Sakura's hand._

"_Yes, you can! Just don't go! Stay here, please," Zhen choked, wiping her face on the sleeve of her ceremonial robes. "Xiao Lang told me to protect you."_

"_You have," Sakura reminded her, her jade eyes flicking to the three unconscious men that Yue had moved to the far side of the room. "You have protected me and I am so proud of you."_

"_Then stay," Zhen whispered. "Stay."_

_Sakura glanced over her shoulder._

"_He's coming."_

"_Who, who is coming," Zhen questioned, but Sakura only shook her head. "Why did they attack us? Please, Sakura, I don't understand what's happening."_

_Sakura smiled at her briefly, the effect of it somewhat lessened by the dark shadows under her eyes and the translucent pallor of her skin. _

"_Someday you will, Zhen. I promise."_

_Reaching for the bedpost, Sakura pushed herself to her feet. Her expression was determined, but the proud stance Zhen had come to associate with the Clow Mistress had withered. Her shoulders were curled into her chest, her steps were careful and unsteady as her breath rattled ominously in her chest. Even her magic staff appeared too heavy for her to hold._

_Zhen dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands as she sobbed. Not even the Clow Cards were powerful enough to protect someone so frail. _

"_Promise me you will stay, Zhen," Sakura whispered, her back to Zhen as she spoke. "Please."_

_Zhen nodded._

"_I-I promise."_

"_Yue, Kero, stay here. Keep her safe."_

_Sakura opened the door to the courtyard and stepped through, sliding it closed behind her as Yue's hand came to rest on Zhen's shoulder. Without opening her eyes Zhen turned to the stoic guardian, burying her face against his chest. Kero rubbed his head against her shoulder consolingly. She knew it hurt Kero and Yue even more than it did her to see their mistress go to her death, but Sakura had ordered them to stay. They would not disobey her._

"_There you are." A man's voice rose above the sound of magic and grinding steel. "I've been looking for you. Did you truly think that you could hide from me?"_

_Zhen shivered. The voice was cool, hard as steel and edged with malice. Yue drew her closer._

"_I haven't been hiding," Sakura replied calmly. "I've been here, waiting for you to find me."_

_The man snorted derisively._

"_Don't play word games with me, child. Semantics cannot save you."_

"_I wouldn't think so, no."_

"_Then I'll get straight to the point, shall I?" The man seemed to take Sakura's silence for her assent. "I've come for the Clow Cards. We both know you're too weak to wield them and any other manner of defence you might conjure would, I assure you, be no match for my own power." _

"_You are powerful," agreed Sakura quietly, "but I will not let you take the cards. They are under my protection."_

_The man laughed and Zhen felt a surge of anger. She knew Sakura would do anything to protect the cards. It wasn't right for this man, no matter how powerful, to laugh at Sakura for that. She pulled away from Yue, pleased when the guardian granted her silent request and released her. Kero nudged her shoulder questioningly as she got down on her hands and knees. Zhen shook her head, crawling carefully across the silk mat to the door. It hadn't latched when Sakura closed it and Zhen was grateful as she inched it open just enough to see into the darkened courtyard._

_The lamps that usually lit the patio were dark, their long slender shapes shadows against the posts that circled the wending walkways, ponds, and flowering trees beneath the full moon. Sakura stood less than a dozen feet in front of her, facing a tall figure in a hooded cloak that touched the ground. Zhen couldn't see his face, but he spoke Mandarin with a British accent like her grandparents. Zhen frowned, able to make out a wand in his right hand. What was a British wizard doing in Hong Kong and how did he know about the Clow Cards?_

"_I was told the Clow Mistress was brave," said the shadowed man, "but no one told me you were a fool." The man raised his right hand, levelling his wand at Sakura. "Give me the cards," he commanded, "or I will take them by force."_

_Zhen watched, unable to breathe as with a flash of light Sakura's staff disappeared, returning to the key that hung from a small silver chain around her neck. The man chuckled, lowering his wand as he held out his left hand._

"_The cards, if you please," he purred._

_Sakura said nothing, her eyes fixed on the hooded man as she drew aside her outer robes. The hiss of steal against leather reached Zhen even in her hiding place, but the wizard didn't seem to recognize the sound. He stood motionless as Sakura drew not the Clow Book, but her sword from its place on her hip. Zhen scrambled to her feet, vaguely aware of someone screaming as Sakura drove the sword through her stomach. _

_The wizard howled with rage and lunged forward as Sakura's magic circle appeared at her feet. A funnel of wind erupted from the golden sigil, throwing the wizard against the eastern wall like an unwanted ragdoll as Zhen was sent skidding backwards toward the house. She blinked quickly and watched as the Clow Cards appeared with a flash of golden light like dozens of falling stars, each gleaming softly as they circled their wounded mistress._

"_I'm sorry," Sakura whispered, her hands still clutching the hilt of her sword as her knees buckled. "It was the only way to keep you safe." The dark stain surrounding the blade protruding from her abdomen was spreading quickly. "If he'd defeated me you would have belonged to him. I-I'm sorry."_

_Zhen watched, stricken as Sakura swayed and fell to her side, her auburn hair pooling beneath her like strands of spun silk. One of the cards flashed and in its place a young woman with long chestnut hair and a flowing gown stood. Zhen recognized the woman from her picture on the card. It was the Hope, the only card Zhen had never seen Sakura use. The woman smiled sadly at Sakura as she knelt beside her. _

"_We know," the Hope whispered. "We have always trusted you to protect us, Mistress. We are only sorry it came at such a cost."_

_Sakura nodded weakly, her eyes sliding closed. Zhen's heart seized and she clambered to her feet, pushing through the wind that was still swirling around the courtyard and ignoring the spark of magic when her feet touched the edge of Sakura's magic circle._

"_Sakura! Sakura, wake up, please! You have to wake up," Zhen wailed, dropping to the ground at Sakura's side. "I'll go get help, just hold on!"_

_Sakura's eyelids fluttered open._

"_Zhen?" _

_Zhen nodded, taking Sakura's bloody hand in her own, distantly registering the Hope card laying its hand on her shoulder briefly before it vanished._

"_I'm right here, Sakura," she whispered thickly. "Just hold on."_

"_I l-ove you," Sakura rasped, squeezing Zhen's hand weakly. "Tell Xiao Lang, t-tell hi-m, h-im..."_

_Sakura's head lolled to the side, her jade eyes disturbingly vacant as Zhen moaned, rocking herself back and forth as the wind whipped around her. Two more magic circles appeared and at their centres Yue and Kero lay lifelessly, their beautiful white wings splayed across the stone pathway as the Clow Book appeared in the air above Sakura. The wind howled around them, but Zhen didn't feel it as the cards flew into the book. It shut with a dull snap and in reply Kero and Yue flashed once and then disappeared, their emblems emblazoned on the red leather binding once more as they were sealed away. Sakura's key appeared beside the book and with a soft click the cards were sealed. Zhen winced at the concussive force of the sealing magic as it exploded and then slowly ebbed away._

_The courtyard was dark now, the lamps still unlit, the light of Sakura's magic dead with her. Zhen shivered, registering the wet warmth clinging to her thighs as she sat by Sakura's lifeless body._

"_Please wake up, please wake up, please wake up," she chanted, the salt of her tears making her cheeks itch as she held Sakura's lifeless gaze. "Please wake up, please wake up."_

_The darkness that surrounded her became darker still. The courtyard disappeared, but Sakura's body remained. Xiao Lang appeared in front of her._

"_You are the next cardcaptor, Zhen." He smiled. "Now it's your turn to die protecting them."_

"_Black told Riddle where the Potters were hiding," her grandfather said, appearing abruptly in the darkness. "Now he's going after Harry. Poor boy won't live to see Christmas."_

_A shadowed figure in a long cloak appeared beside her grandfather. It had the shadowed man's voice and Sirius Black's face. A sharp snort drew Zhen's attention next. A thestral stood, nudging Sakura's head quizzically. Zhen began to cry harder, pressing her hands over her ears as Sirius Black continued to laugh. She shivered, her heart growing cold as she heard the soulless chafing of a dementor and looked up to see dozens of them circling her._

"_No! Stop, go away, please, go away," she whimpered as the dementors tightened their circle. "Please, please."_

"_C'mon Zhen, you've got to wake up." Zhen shook her head, absently acknowledging someone tugging vigorously at her collar. "Wake up!"_

Zhen woke with a gasp and sat up so abruptly that Kero was sent flying into her bedpost. He moaned softly and climbed back up onto the mattress as Zhen sat struggling to catch her breath.

"That must have been some nightmare, kid," Kero whispered. Zhen nodded absently, wiping at the cold sweat coating her brow with the sleeve of her nightgown. "Was it Mei Ling again?"

Zhen shook her head, shoving her hands under her thighs to try and stop the trembling as she leaned back against the headboard. Kero settled cross-legged on her knee, studying her with a disgruntled expression. Zhen squirmed uncomfortably, knowing from experience that her guardian would not let this go. She glanced at her roommates. They were all still sleeping, unsurprising given that the sun was nothing more than a pale yellow line on the horizon. Zhen sighed.

"It was Sakura," she confided quietly, "and Sirius Black, and the dementors, and a thestral, and-

"What's a thestral?"

"The skeletal horses that were drawing the carriages up to the castle yesterday."

Kero shivered.

"Those things gave me the creeps."

Zhen smiled weakly.

"Me too," she admitted. "Granddad says a person can only see them if they've seen death, so I suppose it's unsurprising that they're a little bit creepy."

Kero scowled, crossing his arms over his chest.

"What is it with wizards and all of these dark creatures? No wonder so many of them go bad."

"Thestrals aren't dark creatures, Kero, or at least I don't think so," Zhen admitted. "I've always thought of them being kind of like the _Dark_ card or the _Shadow_. Being made of darkness doesn't make them inherently evil."

Kero beamed, puffing out his chest dramatically.

"I love it when you say stuff like that. You make me look like the world's best guardian."

Zhen poked Kero's stomach, giggling when his chest deflated with an unimpressive cough. The girl in the bed to Zhen's left stirred, mumbling in her sleep and Zhen stifled her giggles with her palm, shooting Kero a worried look. Kero mouthed the word sorry and flew to his place beside her pillow, looking very much like the stuffed toy he was pretending to be. Zhen smiled, glad to have Kero for company after her nightmare. No matter how dismal the circumstances, he could always make her smile.

Zhen settled back against her pillows, glancing at the girl that had moved, pleased to find her sleeping soundly once more. There were seven girls in her year in Gryffindor including herself. According to Hermione, Zhen's was the largest year since before the War ended. Gryffindor and Slytherin had fifteen first years, Hufflepuff seventeen, and Ravenclaw fourteen. One of her roommates, Priya Parvine had expressed her horror the night before at Hufflepuff having the largest number of students. Zhen was fairly certain the Indian girl was from one of the old pureblood families. She'd had no qualms in expressing her distaste for Hufflepuffs, Slytherins, and muggleborns, which had sent one of the muggleborn girls in her dorm, Marcia Summers, off in a snit.

Zhen sighed, scanning the room in hopes of finding someone she might be at least slightly compatible with. Priya was a little snobby and Marcia was far too girly for Zhen's taste, having spent half an hour brushing her hair before bed. The girl to Zhen's left, the one she'd nearly woken, was a Scottish girl named Emily. Zhen was certain the girl hadn't spoken more than three words in the hour the seven girls had spent together unpacking and preparing for bed. On Emily's left was Marcia and next to Marcia was a girl named Tess Dewhurst.

Zhen and Tess had spent a few minutes talking to one another over the sinks as they brushed their teeth. She was a very likable girl with straight auburn hair and pretty gray eyes. She'd confessed to missing her little sister and worrying about classes. Apparently the tutor her family had hired to teach her until she came to Hogwarts, a Professor Toulson, had been less than impressed with the quality of her schoolwork. Another girl, Camille something, had overheard Tess' confession and had promised Tess' grades couldn't have been worse than hers. However, rather than worry about her lack of academic prowess like Tess, Camille found her abysmal scores amusing as they were in large part due to her tendency to play quidditch with her younger brother when she should be studying.

Zhen spotted Camille's messy brown curls half buried under her pillows on the far end of the right side of the room across from Tess. Priya was sleeping in a much more refined position to Camille's left leaving a redhead named Finley Stewart sandwiched between Zhen and Priya. Zhen didn't know much about her except that she was Irish and was good friends with one of the Gryffindor boys in their year.

Sliding back down beneath the covers Zhen decided she could have done much worse for roommates considering she had six of them. Apparently Hermione didn't get on with any of her roommates. The older girl had stopped by the night before to see if Zhen needed anything and had stayed to chat for a bit while Zhen did some unpacking. Hermione had alternated between complaining about a girl named Lavender – who apparently had not stopped nattering on about a boy she'd met during the summer holidays – and fretting over the fact she'd only had the time to read through the semester's texts once. As much as Zhen was beginning to like Hermione, the girl's almost compulsive need to know things was slightly off-putting. It was making Kero incredibly uneasy about trying to hide in plain sight. Hermione was nothing if not observant and intelligent. Spending a significant amount of time with her would make it difficult for Zhen to hide the Clow Cards.

"Zhen, did you feel that?"

Zhen rolled onto her right side so that she was facing Kero. Her guardian had abandoned any pretence of being a stuffed toy and was hovering inches above her pillow, his long tail flicking side to side agitatedly as his black eyes bore into the door of her dormitory.

"Feel what, Kero," Zhen whispered. "I don't feel –

The word _anything_ stuck in her throat as a warm draught of air tickled the back of her neck. She spun quickly, throwing off her covers as she sensed the familiar hum of magic she'd come to associate with the presence of one of the Clow Cards. Ignoring the cool nip of the stone floor as she leapt out of bed Zhen grabbed her housecoat and tore for the door. Kero was already there, sniffing the air through the crack around the door. Zhen lifted the iron latch and heaved the heavy wooden door open, grateful the castle's architects hadn't made it any larger. Once in the corridor she turned back, careful to shut the door behind her in hopes it might deter the card from wreaking havoc on her roommates.

"Which card do you think it is," Zhen asked as she crept quietly down the hallway toward the stairs to the common room. "Are the others in danger?"

As if in answer another breath of air, stronger this time, wafted through the corridor, sweeping Zhen's long hair across her face. Zhen smiled and breathed deep, soothed by the scent of the sea, of spring rain, and of flowers. She glanced at Kero. The small guardian nodded and the tight knot between Zhen's shoulder blades began to untie as the breeze funnelled up the stone stairs making her robe billow out behind her like a sail.

When she reached the bottom step she stopped, unsurprised by the sight that met her. If anyone else in the castle had seen the beautiful spirit twirling around the centre of the Gryffindor common room, they would have likely thought her to be the ghost of some beautiful lady. The prettiness of her flowing hair and her mild expression were not diminished by her translucent state, her long wispy robes dissolving into an indistinguishable alabaster streamer that flowed behind her.

"Hello," Zhen said quietly, fisting the Clow Key in her hand. "Eriol thought that I might find you and the others here, but I doubt he thought it would be so soon. Have you been waiting for me?"

The beautiful spirit continued to swirl, weaving in and out of the overstuffed chairs near the fireplace as the gentle breeze that followed her swept across the room. Zhen stepped out into the middle of the room and the spirit smiled, somersaulting with a spectral grace so that she was facing Zhen. The wind in the room eased slightly as the spirit stopped in front of Zhen, her smile widening as she held Zhen's gaze. Zhen returned the gesture and held the Clow Key out on her open palm so she could summon the staff and seal the spirit away, but she never got the chance. With one final twirl around Zhen the spirit vanished in a flash of light, leaving a glowing gold and red card floating in her place.

"She sealed herself," Zhen murmured as she held out her hand to the card labelled _Windy_. "Sakura said she was gentle, but I never imagined she was this docile. She's so powerful."

"Of course she's powerful. She's one of the four element cards," explained Kero, "but she's also one of the kindest cards. It's her kind nature that allows her to bond so strongly with her master, which makes her even more powerful."

"I don't suppose there's a chance that all of the cards left to capture will be this easy," Zhen asked as she walked across the common room to a table under the window. "I could get used to this."

"Sorry, not gonna happen, kiddo," Kero declared, firmly quashing any illusions Zhen might have created for herself regarding the capture of the Clow Cards at Hogwarts. "Especially not with cards like the _Illusion_ and the _Fiery_ left to find."

Zhen nodded as she dipped a quill in a pot of ink that had been left on the table, signing her name on the back of the _Windy_. Only one other card, the _Wood_, had been willing to seal itself. The rest of the cards had resisted – many of them violently – Zhen's attempts to seal them. But she had done it. She would continue to do it. It was her duty.

"You can do this, Zhen," Kero promised, laying his paw over her thumb. "We can do this."

Zhen slipped the _Windy_ into her bathrobe pocket, ruffling the fur on the top of Kero's head.

"Thanks, Kero."

Kero squawked, trying to pat down his fur which was now standing in all directions. Zhen laughed, looking out at the sun as it finally broke over the hazy shadows of the Scottish vales surrounding the school. Ming meowed, hopping up onto the chair next to Zhen and batted at the feathered end of the quill she'd left near the edge of the table. Zhen smiled, scratching under his chin as she replaced the stopper on the bottle of ink in hopes of keeping Ming out of it. For all he was insightful, her cat still had a knack for causing trouble.

"Did you stay down here last night," she asked her familiar as he flopped down onto the seat of the chair allowing Zhen better access to his chest. Zhen obliged him. "Hermione said you were down here with the upper years last evening. You going to ditch me for someone more mature now that I'm at school?"

Ming turned his head fractionally, his eyes narrowed in what Zhen could only describe as a glare as his tail snapped against the back of his chair. Zhen laughed.

"All right, all right, you're not going to desert me. I get it."

Ming purred in reply, returning to his previous mellow state as Zhen continued to scratch him and Kero climbed into her robe pocket grumbling about messy fur and creepy cats. She could hear the sounds of a few students moving about the dormitories above, their hushed voices wafting down the stairways as Zhen sat watching the sun rise. Hogwarts was a much prettier place when it wasn't pouring.

"Zhen?" Zhen turned, surprised to see Tess standing at the bottom of the stairs leading to the girls dormitory. "Are you all right? Cam and I got worried when we got up and saw you were gone."

"I'm fine, Tess," Zhen answered, scooping Ming out of his chair as she stood. "Sorry to have worried you both. I've only been in the U.K. a couple of weeks. I don't think I've fully adjusted to the time difference."

"Time difference?"

Zhen nodded, allowing Tess to lead the way back up to their dorm room.

"Yes, between Britain and Hong Kong," Zhen clarified. "That's where I'm from."

Tess glanced at Zhen over her shoulder, eyes wide.

"No way! Are you serious?"

Zhen laughed.

"Yes."

"You speak English so well, I never would have guessed," said Tess as she pushed open their door. "It must be hard to be so far from home. Why did you come to Hogwarts? Don't they have wizarding schools in China?"

"Of course they do," Priya answered haughtily, setting her toiletries on her bedside table. "Some of the best wizarding schools in the world are in Asia."

"Why are you wondering about China anyway," Camille asked around a yawn. "We're not in class yet. It's too early for learning."

Tess rolled her eyes.

"I'm wondering because Zhen's from Hong Kong and as much as I love Hogwarts, it's a long way to come just to go to school."

"Then you're actually Chinese," Marcia squeaked as she exited the bathroom, a cloud of steam chasing her. "That's so cool!"

"Half Chinese, actually," Zhen clarified, taking her uniform out of her trunk, rolling her eyes when Ming hopped inside. "My father was British, which is why I'm at Hogwarts."

"My parents considered sending me to a school in Dehli," Priya informed them as she buttoned the blouse of her uniform. "It's a very prestigious school, much older than Hogwarts, and for years they only let the best of wizards and witches in. I of course would have qualified given my family's bloodlines and my academic excellence, but my father's cousin told him that their standards have slipped so much they're practically as bad as Hogwarts. They've got halfbloods and muggleborns right alongside real witches and wizards. It's so unfortunate."

"What's unfortunate is stuck-up purebloods who won't recognize that without muggleborns magic would have died out long ago," Camille commented peevishly. "How'd you end up in Gryffindor anyway? You sound like a snake."

Priya whirled on Camille, wielding a hairbrush as she advanced on the taller girl who was half in her trunk rummaging for a second sock. Zhen watched the pair from the corner of her eye as she tossed her pillows onto the floor and started pulling her tangled blankets up to the headboard. Having been raised in a house with Xiao Lang's four sisters she recognized the signs of an impending row as Priya stalked toward Camille, her expression tight.

"You take that back," Priya demanded. "You take that back this instant!"

Camille straightened slowly, having successfully located her second sock. She tossed the sock onto her bed next to her robes and turned to face the irate girl, clearly unimpressed by the hairbrush that had been shoved in her face.

"Take it back or what," Camille challenged, arching a single brow.

"Come off it, Priya," chided Finley, neatly plucking the hairbrush from Priya's fingers as she passed between the pair on her way from the bathroom. "Your blood's as pure as blood can get. Fine, we get it, but you dunna need ta go rubbin' our noses in it every minute of the day."

Priya's dark cheeks flushed and grabbing her toothbrush she made a hasty retreat to the bathroom.

"You didn't have to do that you know," Camille said as she pulled her nightgown over her head. "I could have taken her."

"I didna say you couldn't," Finley pointed out as she looped her tie around her shirt collar, "but we're goin' ta be spendin' an entire year together. Best we learn to get along sooner rather than later. Besides, Priya's not so bad once she gets ta know yeh. She just comes off as snobbish in the beginnin' because she's self-conscious."

"Yeah, well if she keeps it up she's going to be _un_conscious," Camille growled, hopping on one foot as she put on her second sock. "Nice or not."

Finley smiled and shook her head.

"How many brothers do you have, Camille?"

"Three," Camille answered, weaving her hair into an untidy plait. "And it's Cam. Why do you ask?"

"Because when you have sisters fist fighting isn't your first response to conflict," Tess offered helpfully, laughing when Cam stuck out her tongue. "Hey, that wasn't a criticism, just an observation."

"It's not always true, either," countered Zhen as she discreetly tucked Kero into the inner pocket of her school robes. "My aunt Yelan had quadruplets, all of them girls, and their fights have come to blows more than once."

"I could not live in a house with that many girls," Cam pronounced, fighting with her tie. "I'd either kill them or myself."

"You do realize you're now living with six girls," Marcia pointed out as she twisted her long brown hair and deftly pinned it in a bun at the nape of her neck. "Some of us might find that offensive."

"Then some of us can shove it," snapped Cam. "Damn this tie!"

"Language, Cam," Tess chided with a smile, rescuing Cam's tie from the floor where Cam had hurled it. "Why not just ask for help?"

Zhen shook her head, pinning the bun for her second pigtail as she watched Tess attempt to help a struggling Cam who was now vehemently insisting that she didn't need to wear a tie at all. Ming, having abandoned his exploration of her trunk, sent the pair a withering look and curled up in front of Zhen's pillows.

"She's going to keep life interesting for us, isn't she," Finley predicted, sliding her books into her rucksack. "Especially with Priya around to wind her up."

"I don't think she needs anyone to wind her up," Zhen observed as she stepped into her skirt. "She's currently having an argument with her tie."

Finley laughed, fastened the latch on her rucksack and slid her robes over her shoulders. She hefted her pack onto her left shoulder and then paused, glancing at Zhen. She waited until Zhen had finished buttoning her shirt and then held out her right hand.

"My name's Finley, by the way, Finley Stewart. I don't think we were actually introduced last night."

Zhen smiled and shook Finley's hand, stifling the reflex eleven years in a traditional Chinese family had instilled her which told her she should be bowing.

"Zhen Li, it's nice to meet you Finley." Zhen glanced at the girl's bag. "You headed to the Great Hall already?"

Finley nodded and grinned.

"I told my friend Sully I'd meet him in the common room about now. We grew up on the same street and used ta walk ta our tutor's house together. It's a tradition o' sorts and we thought we should at least walk to breakfast together on our first day here at Hogwarts too."

"I think you mentioned him last night," Zhen said as she stepped into her shoes. "Maybe I'll see you both in class then."

"Definitely, we can even sit together if you'd like."

Zhen smiled and nodded, her fear of not making friends having evaporated as the morning progressed.

"I'd like that very much."

"See you then," Finley called over her shoulder as she crossed the busy room to the door, stepping aside quickly when it swung in from the hallway. "Sorry."

"My fault," said Hermione. "Is Zhen still here?"

"Aye, but enter at your own risk," Finley warned as she stepped past Hermione into the hallway. "Cam and Priya have been at it since their eyes opened."

"Have not," argued Priya, trailing after Finley. "Besides, I was provoked."

Zhen shook her head unable to hear Finley's mild reply as the door swung closed behind them. Carefully navigating the minefield that had formed at the foot of Cam's bed Hermione made her way to Zhen, plopping down on the foot of her bed with a smile.

"Thought you might like a guide to breakfast," she said, glancing at the watch on her left wrist. "We've got a few minutes before we need to head out though, so there's no rush."

Zhen noted that in spite of Hermione's assurance that she didn't need to hurry the older girl was twitching. Hermione clearly liked to be early for things as Harry had told Zhen the night before she wouldn't need to leave the tower until quarter past eight and it was barely eight o'clock. Slipping into her robes Zhen grabbed her rucksack, pleased she'd thought to pack it the night before or Hermione might have exploded in the time it took her to fill it.

"I'm ready to go now if you are," Zhen said, biting her lip to stifle her giggles when Hermione sprang to her feet. "Do you mind if I check with the other girls and see if they want to come?"

Much more relaxed now that she was in motion Hermione shook her head.

"Of course not."

"Do any of you want help finding the Great Hall?" Tess looked up from her rucksack while Marcia glanced at Zhen's reflection in the mirror she was using to apply pale pink eye shadow. Cam continued to shove her books into her school bag. "Hermione's a third year and she's offered to show us the way."

"You are my hero," proclaimed Cam, cramming her parchment and quills into her backpack with a force that made Hermione wince. "I can't tell up from down in this place."

"I'd love to come too," said Tess, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. "I kept hoping one of the prefects would come around with a map last night and when they didn't I had nightmares about missing breakfast."

Hermione chuckled.

"You get used to it," Hermione assured her. "By the end of the first week you'll know your way around enough that you won't be missing meals at least, although I've been here three years and I still get lost finding some of the classrooms."

"That doesn't bode well for me," said Zhen with a grimace. "As my cousin loves to remind me, I'm directionally challenged. I can get lost in the market in my home town."

"If you do get lost, you should talk to the paintings," advised Hermione. "Some of them are really arrogant, but others are really quite helpful." Hermione glanced at Marcia who had moved on to lip-gloss. "Are we ready then?"

"Marcia? You coming," asked Tess.

"No thanks, I'm sure I'll find my way."

"Right then, if the rest of you are ready we can head out," announced Hermione. "I can't wait to see our schedules. They'll hand them out at breakfast."

Cam made a gagging motion with her finger down her throat, clearly upset by Hermione's unabashed exuberance regarding school. Tess nudged her pointedly with her elbow and Cam rolled her eyes, but ceased her mimicry. Hermione glanced over her shoulder at the pair as they reached the bottom of the spiral staircase.

"My name is Hermione Granger, by the way. I think Zhen may have mentioned that, but I didn't catch your names."

"Sorry, Hermione, that would be my fault," said Zhen. "These are my roommates Tess Dewhurst and Camille – Sorry Cam, but I don't remember your last name."

"No worries," Cam assured her with an easy smile. "It's Alden, Cam Alden. You might have heard of my brother Nate. He's a couple of years ahead of you in Hufflepuff."

Hermione pursed her lips.

"Nathaniel Alden? Is he one of the Hufflepuff beaters?"

Cam grinned.

"Yup, that's him. Do you like quidditch, Hermione?"

The bushy-haired third year shook her head.

"No, sorry, but my friend Harry is seeker for the Gryffindor team and another of my friends Ron is an avid follower of it. To be honest I've never seen the appeal, although that may be in large part due to the fact that I'm terrified of flying."

"Muggleborn," Cam inquired good-naturedly as they followed Hermione down the seventh floor corridor toward the stairs. Hermione nodded. "A lot of muggleborns have trouble adjusting to the idea of flying without being in a plane. Not that I can say I blame them. If someone came up to me at eleven years old and told me I was meant to swim underwater without any scuba gear I'd pitch a fit."

"Are you muggleborn as well," Zhen asked, genuinely curious. "Most purebloods have never heard of a plane or scuba diving."

Cam shook her head.

"No, but my dad's one and I spend most of my summers with his parents."

"Just to prove my ignorance, can someone explain to the lacking pureblood what planes and scooping gear are and what they have to do with flying and swimming?" Tess blinked when her three companions laughed. "What did I say?"

The rest of their trek to the Great Hall was spent explaining muggle flying machines and the concept of scuba diving to Tess who was fascinated, particularly by the diving gear as she was an avid swimmer. Hermione was very knowledgeable both about planes and diving, something Zhen was beginning to expect from the older girl. It seemed Hermione was knowledgeable about everything, although Zhen noticed the more the older girl relaxed the less know-it-all her explanations sounded. She'd just finished her explanation of an oxygen tank – with Zhen and Cam interjecting occasionally – when they reached the Entrance Hall. It was the first thing Zhen recognized from her trek up to Gryffindor Tower the night before in spite of the fact she'd made a concerted effort to pay attention to her surroundings both trips.

"I don't suppose you'd be willing to run some sort of a ferry service for me, Hermione," Zhen asked as they crossed the Entrance Hall. "I don't think I know any more where I'm going now than I did the first trip."

Hermione smiled.

"You'll get the hang of it Zhen, don't worry."

Hermione opened her mouth to say something else, but was drowned out by a roar of raucous laughter coming from the table Zhen remembered as belonging to the Slytherins. Draco Malfoy was at its epicentre, gesticulating enthusiastically and glancing pointedly at the Gryffindor table as he swooned dramatically. His onlookers laughed again, one or two not so quiet comments audible over the din even from the doorway. Zhen glanced at Hermione, knowing she hadn't mistaken the name _Potter_ when she saw the older girl's grim expression.

"If you'll all excuse me," Hermione managed through clenched teeth, her clipped tone barely civil. "See you later, Zhen."

Zhen watched as Hermione made a beeline for Harry who was sitting to the right of one of the Weasley twins, his frame rigid as the Slytherins continued to hurl insults at him.

"Hey Li!" Zhen's head turned reflexively toward the Slytherins who had finally taken note of her arrival. "Do you think you can make it to the table by yourself or do you need someone to carry you?"

At the Gryffindor table Harry, Hermione, and the two Weasley brothers turned to look at her, the boys clearly just realizing she was there as the Slytherins exploded with laughter once more. She caught a flicker of sympathy in Harry's stony green eyes, but it turned quickly to surprise as Cam stepped in front of Zhen protectively.

"Oi! Keep your fangs in your mouths you lot of snakes. I don't appreciate having venom spewed all over my toast." Cam's voice carried clearly over the Great Hall, the Slytherins having been shocked into silence by such a fearless first year. "Do you not have enough puppies and kittens to torment you've got to start picking on us first years?"

A snicker of approval rose from the three other tables as the Slytherins stood staring dumbly at Cam. With a nod of dismissal Cam took Zhen by the shoulder and steered her to the far end of the Gryffindor table where Priya and Finley were seated with a couple of boys their age. Cam sat with a thud on the bench, her set jaw clearly conveying her annoyance as she reached for a plate of toast with one hand and a plate of sausages with the other.

"Are you crazy, Cam," hissed Tess as they sat. "They were all at least two years older than you and twice your size. Do you really want to make trouble with them on the first day?"

"I don't like bullies," Cam managed around a mouthful of eggs.

"Clearly you don't like common sense either," Priya commented archly, "Or you'd have enough to realize that tangling with the snakes is a bad idea."

"Priya, Cam, stop," Finley interjected quickly, seeming to sense Cam's rebuttal was forthcoming. With a sigh Finley turned to look at Zhen who to this point had sat motionlessly between Tess and Cam. "Zhen, are you alrigh'? It was you they were makin' fun of after all."

Both Priya and Cam softened at this, abandoning their glaring match to glance at Zhen. Zhen blinked, surprised to find everyone suddenly looking at her. She felt her cheeks flush and nodded, reaching for the plate of fried eggs in front of her.

"I'm okay, Finley," she assured the Irish girl, "Really."

Finley nodded, but her blue eyes were doubtful as she turned to the boy sitting to her left, correctly assuming that Zhen would appreciate a change of topic.

"Zhen, this is the friend I told you about, Sullivan Murray. Everyone calls him Sully." The boy nodded, smiling as he chewed the half sausage he'd just stuffed in his mouth. "Discountin' his table manners, he's really quite nice."

Sully swallowed and elbowed Finley good-naturedly.

"Aye, and you're as flawless as the good Saint Patrick 'imself."

"Saint who," queried Priya from Finley's other side.

"Saint Patrick," Sully repeated. "A muggle saint who got 'imself famous in Ireland for one thing or another." Sully shovelled a forkful of eggs into his mouth and swallowed. "I never was much good wit' muggle studies."

"Ah, finally, a kindred spirit," chimed Tess as she sliced her sausage. "Zhen and the others spent the entire trip downstairs telling me about airplanes and scuba divers. I'm beginning to sense that wizards' perspectives of muggles may be slightly skewed."

Zhen smiled as Cam began diatribe condemning wizard prejudices, during which Priya looked decidedly uncomfortable. Having envisioned herself sitting alone for meals Zhen appreciated being surrounded by other students, but in spite of herself she found her eyes flicking to the Slytherin table between bites. She'd been made fun of by some of the members of the other clans in Hong Kong. They had resented Zhen's position as the niece of the Li clan's head, Yelan. They'd called her princess and found endless ways to imply she was stuck up or spoiled.

Yet, the taunts had never bothered Zhen because no matter what they said, she knew it wasn't true. The same could not be said of the barbs the Slytherins had stuck her with. She _had_ fainted and she _had_ needed to be carried off the train and out of the carriage. In fact she'd broadcasted as much to Draco when he'd made fun of Harry, a rash decision she was beginning to regret as the Slytherins continued to snigger over their plates, their glances volleying back and forth between Zhen and Harry.

"Zhen?" Zhen jumped when Tess waved her hand in front of Zhen's face. "I asked if you're ready to go. We thought we should head out a little early in case we have trouble finding the classroom."

Zhen looked down at her full plate, but couldn't force herself to take a bite as her stomach twisted and curled under her ribs uncomfortably. Instead, she quickly drained her milk, tucking a muffin into the pocket where she could feel Kero squirming, and nodded. The others stood, grabbing their bags from under the benches as a tall boy with sandy hair called out to Cam. As he drew closer Zhen noted that he had Cam's hazel eyes and a Hufflepuff tie and decided he must be Cam's brother, Nathanial.

"Hey Squirt," he greeted with a grin, ruffling Cam's already untidy hair. "See you're as shy as ever."

"Why would coming to Hogwarts change the fact that I speak my mind," Cam quipped with a grin. "I never mess with a good thing."

Nathanial chuckled.

"I know you don't, Squirt, but a word of brotherly advice?" Nathanial's expression had grown more serious and Cam's expression shifted to match as she nodded. "Steer clear of the Slytherins, especially Malfoy and his lot, and especially when the professors are around. They aren't fond of us engaging in inter-house rivalries, although I've noticed they don't do much to discourage it." Nathanial shook his head, his grin returning as he slung his arm over his little sister's shoulders. "Just be careful, all right? I don't want to have Mum sending me a howler for having hexed a bunch of snakes to protect your honour, kapeesh?"

Cam laughed.

"Kapeesh."

"Good, now that's settled what about introducing me to your new friends? Got to make sure they're of good character," Nathaniel teased, pinching Cam's cheek. "I did promise Mum to look after her baby girl and all that nonsense."

Cam rolled her eyes, but introduced them anyway.

"Everyone, this annoying bloke is my brother, Nathaniel. You can all call him Nate or jerkwad, whichever strikes your fancy." Cam ducked her brother's half-hearted blow with ease, grinning as Zhen and the others snickered at the elder boy. "Nate, this is Priya Parvine, Finley Stewart, Sully something or other and – sorry don't remember your name – Cam paused for breath allowing Sully's dormmate Jared Ross to supply his name. "And over here we have Tess Dewhurst and Zhen Li."

Nate greeted them all good-naturedly, nodding at Zhen.

"You're the one the Slytherins are having such a time about, is that right, Zhen?" Zhen nodded silently at the elder boy, glancing reflexively at the Slytherin table. Nate reached out and ruffled her hair much as he had Cam's earlier. "Chin up firstie, the Slytherins will get theirs someday."

Zhen smiled, heartened by Nate's optimism.

"Thanks."

"No worries. I'd pick the worst of the lions over any one of those slimy snakes any day. They can be a right pain." Nate glanced at his watch. "However, I'll be in a right amount of pain if I'm not to class on time. McGonagall's no Snape, but she's a sharp lady that one. Reckon I've still got time to show you all the way to your first class though. Where are you off to?"

"Charms," Priya supplied and the others looked at her, surprised. She blushed. "Professor McGonagall handed me the schedules on my way in. I forgot to give them to you. Sorry."

"All right, Charms it is then," boomed Nate with a grin. "All you lot here? Or do we need to pick up some of your fellow firsties on the way?"

"The rest of the lads have left already," said Sully, standing on his toes to see down the benches along the Gryffindor table. "Must've decided to go it on their own."

"Marcia still hasn't come down from the tower," Cam observed with a dismissive snort, "But what about that other girl? What was her name?"

Zhen blinked, realizing she hadn't given the girl a second thought since she and Kero nearly woke her.

"Emily," Zhen supplied, scanning the Great Hall. "She sleeps next to me, but I haven't seen her all morning."

"Then I'm afraid she'll have to fend for herself along with all the other firsties," declared Nate, striding toward the doors to the Great Hall. "Muggles might not leave men behind in war, but it's every man for himself when dealing with Minerva McGonagall. Off we go!"

* * *

"Come off it, Ron. Really, who are you going to believe," challenged Hermione sourly. "Professor McGonagall – a perfectly reasonable and respected witch – or this Trelawney, who if you ask me, seems to have tipped off her trolley."

"You're just upset because she said you were no good at Divination," snapped Ron. Harry said nothing, but a small part of him wanted to agree with the redhead, to be precise, the part of him that was hoping to live to see his majority. "You just can't stand taking a class where you can't memorize the textbook and ace it."

Hermione's cheeks reddened, her lips white, as she pressed them together in a frightening imitation of Professor McGonagall.

"I just don't think it's proper for professors to go about predicting a student's doom," she clarified tightly. "Think about how that must make poor Harry feel."

"You know," Harry interjected morosely, "if you really wanted to know how that makes poor Harry feel you could just ask him. He is sitting right here."

Both Ron and Hermione's cheeks flushed at that, but Harry found little satisfaction in their discomfort. Logically, he knew that Hermione and Professor McGonagall were probably right. Trelawney had seemed more like a candidate for a madhouse than a professor. He just couldn't let go of the fact that she had predicted Neville breaking his first cup – not that Neville being clumsy was rare. Then there was that massive black dog he'd seen leaving the Dursley's the first of August. He'd tried to convince himself through all of Transfiguration that it had been his imagination, but he knew what he'd seen. There had been a dog, whether it was a Grim or not.

"Mate?"

Harry looked up from his bowl of stew to find Ron studying him with a rather ill expression. Ron certainly believed in the Grim, Harry thought bitterly, and apparently he thought it was out to kill Harry.

"I'm fine, Ron. You don't have to worry," Harry assured his friend, inwardly wincing at his surly tone as he scooped a lump of potato out of his bowl. "I'm not going to be dropping dead any time soon."

"Why on earth would you do that?" Harry glanced up, both surprised and pleased when Zhen took the empty space on the bench to his left. "I wanted to check and see if all that Slytherin nonsense from this morning was still bothering you, but if you're contemplating suicide I think I know the answer. Not that I can't relate."

Harry watched as the younger girl took a bowl of stew, her narrowed eyes fixed on the horde of Slytherins across the hall that was sniggering in her direction. She looked as bad-tempered as Harry felt.

"Are they still giving you problems, Zhen," asked Hermione, passing her a roll. "I'd hoped they'd leave you alone after your friend's rather ferocious tongue-lashing."

"No kidding," agreed Ron, his eyes wide. "She's as much of a spitfire as Ginny and that's saying something."

"Well, apparently it takes more than an irate first year to cow a crowd of Slytherins," Zhen muttered, stabbing at a carrot with her spoon. Abandoning her spoon with a huff and resting her head in the palm of her hand Zhen swivelled slightly on the bench so she that was looking at Harry. "You know, I'm beginning to regret sticking up for you, Harry Potter."

Harry snorted.

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm beginning to regret _being_ me, period." Harry sighed wistfully. "I think I'm going to leave Hogwarts, go somewhere secluded, and tropical. A deserted island maybe, where there are no Slytherins and no soused professors predicting my doom in a teacup."

Zhen blinked.

"I think I missed something there."

"We had our first Divination class this morning," Hermione explained, not looking up from the Arithmancy text balanced against the pitcher in front of her. "We were reading tea leaves and after seeing Harry's our professor is convinced he's going to die. Some nonsense about a great black dog or something."

"The Grim," Ron cut in vehemently, "and it's not nonsense."

"It wouldn't be so bad if she hadn't convinced everyone else of it too," Harry continued, ignoring Ron and glaring at Lavender and Pavarti as they whispered far too loudly about poor Harry's imminent death. "It just makes the whole thing with the Slytherins seem that much worse."

Harry returned to his stew, scooping a lump of beef into his mouth. It wasn't until he reached for his cup that he realized Zhen was studying him with an unnerving intensity. It was exactly the expression he'd expected to see her wearing after she realized he was the boy-who-lived. He wondered absently if it was possible for there to be a delayed reaction to such things and shifted uncomfortably in his seat, feeling ill at ease with the girl for the first time since they'd met. When she spoke abruptly a few seconds later, he was so unnerved he nearly dropped his cup.

"You're not going to die, Harry," she said with an undeniable air of certainty, "at least not any time soon."

"And just how would you know that," Ron demanded, his expression one of mistrust. "You some sort of seer or something?"

Zhen straightened and turned to face Ron across the table.

"No, I'm not a seer, but death is one of the most difficult things to predict. Only the most skilled seers can see it and I don't think seeing a dog in a blot of tea leaves is enough to prove that Harry's going to die." Harry slumped against the table in relief. Now it was two against one, Hermione and Zhen against Ron. Surely that must somehow work in his favour. "Besides," Zhen continued, "his aura doesn't suggest he's going to die."

Harry froze with his spoon halfway to his mouth. Across the table Ron's pumpkin juice was dribbling down his chin and Hermione looked up sharply from her book. Zhen glanced between the three, fidgeting as they stared at her.

"W-what did I say?"

Harry glanced at Ron and Hermione, trying to ensure it wasn't his magical ignorance that made Zhen's statement seem off. Hermione shook her head slightly and Ron mouthed the word barking, tipping his head in the small girl's direction. Zhen scowled.

"All right you three, out with it," she commanded with a startling amount of authority. "So far today I've been harassed by snakes, goggled by Hufflepuffs, looked down on by Ravenclaws, and ostracized by my own roommates. Hence I'm sitting with you instead of them, by the way. Cam's the only one of them willing to be seen with me. I'm tired, I'm cranky, and I would really appreciate it if the only three people in this entire school that knew me before I was toted about by one of my professors like a rag doll would stop staring at me like I'm suddenly sporting wings and a beak!"

Harry couldn't have told anyone specifically what element of Zhen's unexpected fit of temper was so amusing. In fact, having spent the morning in similar circumstances he probably shouldn't have found it funny at all. But he did and there was nothing for it. What started as a muffled snicker soon morphed into gales of laughter that had his eyes watering and his sides aching. Ron and Hermione fared little better. Even Zhen was smiling as Harry fought valiantly to regain his self-control.

"I-I'm sorry, Zhen," Hermione gasped, "We shouldn't be laughing. It's really not funny. You've had a horrible morning. It's just, you sounded so much like Harry that I couldn't help it."

"Hey! I do _not_ sound like that," protested Harry, a residual grin from his laughing fit still in place.

"Sorry, mate, but you do," Ron insisted, chuckling. "I mean think of all that's happened in the last two years. Now first day back you've been tormented by Slytherins, told you're going to die by one of our professors, and that's ignoring that you have some sort of deranged lunatic out to kill you. I didn't think I'd ever meet someone with your kind of luck and here she is sitting right next to you."

"Maybe it would be safer if we kept you two apart," said Hermione. "I'm not sure Hogwarts can survive the two of you together."

Harry glanced at Zhen, grinning at the younger girl who smiled widely in return. Yes, Harry thought absently, he definitely preferred it when Zhen was smiling.

"Is it safe to ask what put you three in such a gormless state before my little tantrum," Zhen inquired, buttering a roll. "I'm still confused about that part."

Harry's smile dimmed slightly, his eyes quickly meeting Hermione's. His friend nodded.

"Zhen, you said that Harry's aura didn't suggest he was going to die," Hermione prompted gently. Zhen nodded in agreement. "How would you know?"

"I've been able to see auras for as long as I can remember," Zhen explained with a shrug. "Can't some of your yearmates see them?"

Harry shook his head and Zhen frowned.

"Actually, I don't know of anyone who can do that, well except maybe Trelawney," said Harry and Hermione snorted derisively. Zhen looked worriedly between the three. It was clear she'd never considered that seeing auras wasn't something common at Hogwarts. "Maybe some of the other professors can though or some of the kids in the other houses," Harry suggested, hoping to cheer her somewhat. "I mean, it's not as though I've asked them about it."

Harry didn't think Zhen looked particularly comforted by that thought and he reapplied himself to his lunch as the younger girl stirred her stew glumly. He glanced at Ron, but couldn't bring himself to break the awkward silence that had fallen. Ron apparently had no such qualms.

"You know, Harry," he mused, "maybe you should keep her around after all." Harry glared at his friend, certain Ron's train of thought was headed in the wrong direction as Zhen eyed the redhead warily. Ron grinned at her. "No, seriously, think of how many times Harry's nearly got himself killed. With you around, we'll be able to relax a little bit. You can just check his aura and we'll know whether he's going to make it out of whatever scrape he's gotten himself into."

Zhen smiled uncertainly and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Honestly, Ron, Zhen does not want to be turned into some sort of Harry-danger detector."

In spite of her disdain the corners of Hermione's lips twitched briefly upwards and soon all four of them were in hysterics. Harry didn't even notice Professor Lupin approaching until the man sat beside him on the bench.

"I'm glad to see you are all in better spirits today," he greeted warmly, reaching past Harry for a biscuit. "I don't have you or Zhen in class today Harry and I wanted to check and make sure you were both doing all right."

"We are, Professor," Harry assured the man, oddly touched that he cared enough to check on them. He'd never had an adult care enough to check on him before. "Thanks."

Professor Lupin stood with a nod.

"Come and see me if either of you need anything, all right?" Harry and Zhen nodded. "I don't relish the thought of what your fathers would do to me if they discovered I let something happen to you. James was bad enough, but he and Richard together would be enough to put me in an early grave, not to mention your mother Zhen." Professor Lupin glanced at his watch. "I've got to get a move on. You all might want to do the same. Class starts in ten minutes."

"Thanks, Professor," Harry called as the man strode toward the door, waving back at them as he popped the last of his biscuit into his mouth.

"He seems so nice," observed Hermione, "I can't wait to have class with him."

"I'm just hoping he doesn't try to kill me," Harry muttered, only half joking as he stood and pulled his rucksack from under the bench. "He'd be the first DADA professor I've had that didn't have it in for me."

"You ask me, mate, he seems more concerned with keeping you safe than wanting to kill you," said Ron. "I'm not sure anyone's that good an actor."

"I'm sure you'll be fine, Harry," Zhen assured him, slipping a roll into her robe pocket. Harry caught the action and arched a brow. Zhen blushed. "I have problems with my blood sugar. I have to have something to eat between classes."

"Here, take this too then," Hermione instructed passing Zhen an apple. "The last thing you need is to faint again today. Malfoy would never let you hear the end of it."

Zhen grimaced, tucking the apple into her pocket.

"Thanks, Hermione."

"No problem," Hermione assured her with a smile. "We've got class outside this afternoon so we'd probably better go, but you're welcome to come and sit with us at supper if your roommates are still avoiding you."

Zhen beamed, thanking Hermione and waving goodbye to he and Ron as she started up the marble staircase to try her hand at finding her History of Magic classroom. Harry followed Ron and Hermione out the front doors and onto the grounds, pleased to see that Zhen and Hermione seemed to be getting on so well. Ron was more of a mixed bag, vacillating between liking the girl, not speaking to her, and treating her like an intruder. He'd ignored her for most of the train ride, helped her into the castle, belittled her in the common room last night, and then just now applauded her for being some kind of danger-detector. It was like watching a muggle tennis match. He just hoped when the game was over, Ron would be okay with Zhen being around.

Harry hadn't yet spent a great deal of time with Zhen, but he felt a strange connection to her. He wondered if it was because of what Lian and Professor Lupin had told them about their fathers being friends. Or maybe it was because she hadn't freaked when she'd found out that he was the boy-who-lived. Or because they had both passed out when the dementors boarded the train. Or because the Slytherins were harassing her. Or because she'd been sorted into his house. Or maybe it was all of those reasons.

Harry decided he'd probably never figure it out, but he was pleased nonetheless. He'd spent the first ten years of his life without any friends at all and even at Hogwarts the only people he could honestly call his friends were Hagrid, Hermione, and Ron. It was certainly more than he'd ever had and he was undeniably grateful. Still, it wouldn't be so bad to be able to add another name to his list.

* * *

"Satisfied, Minerva?" The chafed baritone made Minerva flinch, drawing her attention away from the Gryffindor table. Remus Lupin smiled. "You know I'm quite enjoying getting to know this side of you, Minerva. As a student I never doubted you cared. However, I'm beginning to realize that I severely underestimated just how _much_ you cared."

Minerva pursed her lips, feeling uncomfortably exposed. In spite of the fact she'd had both Harry and Zhen for classes today and objectively knew they were fine, she was worried. There were worse things than dementors hunting both children and she couldn't rid herself of the nagging belief they were in danger every waking moment, a belief that was making her older than her years.

She had, however, believed she was being discreet, inspecting the two lions over her plate from her seat at the Head Table. Apparently her discretion was not enough to escape the notice of Hogwarts' newest Defence professor. Remus had always been an observant student. Apparently it was a trait the years had not altered.

"Would it really be so bad to let them know," he enquired softly, sipping his tea. "To show them how much you care?"

"I am not here to be their mother or their friend, Remus," Minerva replied tersely, mentally squelching the voice in her head reminding her that she referred to the students of Hogwarts as _her_ children. "We must be professional or we lose their respect as an instructor."

Remus took another sip of tea, his eyes fixed on a raven-haired boy at the Gryffindor table.

"You know, my favourite professor while I was here was Professor Quillshire. She seemed old at the time as I was only in my second year, but she must have been barely 25, just finished her mastery." Minerva glanced at the younger wizard curiously, wondering where this was going. "She was a very good teacher, one of the few good defence teachers we ever had, and I never felt more cared for by a teacher than I did by her. Care to guess why?"

Minerva sighed, feeling very much like she was having a conversation with Albus Dumbledore. Remus knew precisely where this conversation was going and Minerva was very much lost. It wasn't that she didn't remember Professor Quillshire. Remus was right in stating she was one of the few capable DADA professors Hogwarts had managed to hire in recent years, a bright spot amid the gloom. She'd been young, enthusiastic, and had been a favourite of all the students. A small part of Minerva doubted the fact she was beautiful had hurt her chances with the boys of Hogwarts, although she had been married to a rather imposing auror who'd visited on several occasions. In fact, her husband was as well liked as she was, so it likely wasn't her looks. Moreover, Minerva doubted looks would have endeared Professor Quillshire to a bookworm like Remus Lupin, even as a teen.

"I haven't the foggiest," she finally admitted. "Care to explain?"

Remus chuckled, unbothered by having his question turned back on him.

"She called me by my first name."

Minerva blinked, certain she'd misheard.

"I'm sorry?"

"She called me and everyone else she taught by their first names," he repeated and Minerva scowled, finding his explanation lacking. Remus merely smiled and continued unperturbed. "We spend seven years here. Some of you teach us from the moment we enter those doors. Yet, the first time you called me by my name was yesterday." Minerva opened her mouth, a befuddled apology on her lips, but Remus held up his hand. "It's not a criticism, Minerva. It's the way children have been taught for decades and there is absolutely nothing wrong with it. I just know that being away from home for ten months of the year, it meant everything to me to hear an adult call me by name. It made Hogwarts feel a little bit more like home and for some students this place is the closest thing to home they'll ever have."

Minerva said nothing. There really was nothing she could say to such an open and honest confession. She'd never thought of such a thing before. Glancing at the young man beside her she smiled softly.

"Am I to assume then, Professor Lupin, that you will be addressing your students by their given names?"

Remus smiled into his teacup, but said nothing. Smile still in place, Minerva wordlessly added a helping of meat to the younger man's plate. He glanced at her curiously, but she merely arched a brow, silently daring him to leave his plate unfinished. Nodding sheepishly, Remus applied himself to his dinner, glancing up when Severus took the empty seat to his left.

"Severus, I was hoping I'd see you," Remus greeted warmly. "I wanted to see how young Draco is doing. I understand he was involved in a bit of an incident during Hagrid's class."

"Then one would suppose your anonymous sources have also informed you that the injury is not a life threatening one," Severus answered snidely. Minerva caught his eye, glaring reprovingly. Clenching his teeth as if it pained him to do so, Severus continued in a more neutral tone. "Poppy has tended to him and says he may return to class sometime tomorrow."

Remus smiled.

"I'm glad to hear it," he said heartily. "It's a shame it had to take place on Hagrid's first day teaching though."

Severus snorted, but glancing at Minerva said nothing. Minerva frowned, inwardly seething at the potion master's petulant behaviour. Perhaps the infamous Marauders had done him ill as a schoolboy, but Severus was now a grown man acting as a schoolboy. To Minerva's mind it was particularly unbecoming in a man as skilled and intelligent as Severus.

Dabbing at her mouth with a napkin she pushed her chair back and stood.

"If you'll excuse me, I have a few things to prepare for tomorrow's classes." She nodded at Remus' farewell and glowered pointedly at Severus behind Remus' back. "Good evening to you both."

She strode from the Head Table, trying to temper her frustration with Severus as she approached a pair of first years that were still lingering at the Gryffindor table. Most of the other students had left the Great Hall, but Zhen and her companion Miss Alden seemed in no hurry as they sat cross-legged on one of the benches talking animatedly. Miss Alden noticed her approach first.

"Hello Professor McGonagall," she greeted with a smile. "We were just talking about the homework for your class. Zhen's trying to explain to me where I went wrong with my matchstick."

"I would have thought your common room or the library a more appropriate place for homework," Minerva answered, deliberately avoiding the topic of Miss Alden's abysmal first attempts at transfiguration. "You might find talking with your other yearmates helpful. No two people will approach transfiguration in exactly the same way."

Miss Alden snorted and Minerva arched a brow inquiringly.

"They're still being twits because of the Slytherins teasing Zhen," Miss Alden explained crossly. "We decided to stay down here for a bit."

"Is that all right, Professor McGongall," asked Zhen. "Are we allowed to be here?"

"So long as at least one of the professors is present, yes, you may stay here," Minerva answered, her frustration with Severus flaring again. He really did give his snakes far too much latitude. "However, I wondered if I could have a few minutes of your time, Miss Li. You have inherited you father's gift for transfiguration and I wanted to speak with you about some of the possibilities that opens up for you in your studies."

Zhen's cheeks turned a pale shade of red, but she nodded wordlessly, glancing at Miss Alden.

"Meet you up in the common room?"

Miss Alden nodded, grabbing her bag and Zhen's as she stood.

"Sure thing. It'll give me time to straighten out the rest of those pansies, remind them they're lions not mice."

Minerva nearly lost her stern expression at that, watching with carefully masked amusement as one of her newest lions made her way to the marble staircase.

"Am I to understand that some of the other students have been giving you a hard time then, Miss Li," Minerva said quietly, gesturing for Zhen to follow as she led the way out of the Great Hall. "You should have said something after class."

"They've let it go since Draco was hurt," Zhen answered with a shrug. "I think now they're just scared of me attracting the older students' attention."

Minerva nodded as they made their way up the first of several sets of stairs leading to the seventh floor.

"Then I can understand why Miss Alden is unbothered by spending time with you." Zhen glanced up at her, smiling shyly. "She draws enough attention all by herself."

"Yes M'am, she does," Zhen agreed, her smile widening. "Although her brother has already warned her it could get her into trouble."

"Mister Alden is a prefect," informed Minerva. "It is his job to try and keep students out of trouble."

Zhen nodded and Minerva said nothing more as they traversed the last four sets of stairs to the seventh floor. Her desire to talk to Zhen had nothing to do with transfiguration – although the girl was gifted – and theirs was a conversation unsuited for public corridors. They had nearly reached their destination when Zhen spoke up, her expression one of unease.

"You don't really want to talk to me about transfiguration do you, Professor?"

Minerva shook her head shortly and stopped. Zhen gazed up at her expectantly. Glancing quickly in both directions Minerva cast a few spells to ensure their privacy before turning to Zhen. Zhen had taken a step back and stood with her hand fisted around her necklace, eying Minerva warily. Minerva frowned.

"The spells were to guarantee our privacy, Miss Li. In Hogwarts even the walls have ears," Minerva explained gently, eying the troll and his dancing tutor that had stopped to watch from the tapestry opposite them. Zhen relaxed visibly at her explanation and Minerva filed away her concern at Zhen's wariness to consider at a more suitable time. "As I'm sure you remember Miss Li one of the conditions of your attendance here at Hogwarts is that we permit you to continue your martial arts training. However, there exist no proper facilities for such an endeavour on the grounds, which is why we are here."

The young girl blinked owlishly, eyes trailing up and down the corridor before looking back to Professor McGonagall.

"Professor, where exactly is here?"

Minerva permitted a small smile, having never had the opportunity to tell a student about a room that few discovered and even fewer understood. She herself hadn't learned about it until she was a professor. The house elf that had told her about it had called it the come and go room, which Minerva later learned was an informal title for the Room of Requirement.

The Room of Requirement had been a fable during her school years. It was rumoured to hold great treasures left by Hogwarts' founders, mountains of galleons, or the answers for the NEWT examinations, depending on which of her school mates was telling the tale. Of course, it was only later that Minerva realized some of them had found it without even knowing it. Her friend Tilly had found it in the form of a library one night, filled with books on ancient runes when she'd been pacing the halls trying to assemble her final essay for her seventh year class. A boy named Robert from Hufflepuff had found an attic and used it to hide the engagement ring he'd bought for his girlfriend Laurel. Unfortunately, not understanding the mechanics of the room, he never found the ring again. At Dumbledore's suggestion, the Room of Requirement would be made into a training room for Zhen, provided the young girl could properly envision what the room would become.

"Here, Miss Li, is the Room of Requirement. You will likely hear rumours about it from your classmates, although I would imagine their accounts will be lacking at best. Even the headmaster admits he doesn't fully understand its workings, but in essence it is a magical room that given the proper instruction on the part of the one seeking to use it, will become whatever sort of room that person needs. For example, if one had run out of writing supplies one might open the door to find shelves filled with quills, ink, and parchment. It is our hope then that you will be able to shape the room into the training area that you require."

"How do I do that, Professor," Zhen asked, glancing nervously about the corridor. "I don't even see a door."

"I think the best way to approach it would be like transfiguration," advised Minerva, gesturing toward the blank wall in front of them. "You will need to walk past this section of wall here three times, focusing on what type of room you would like to appear, the types of objects that would be found there, the dimensions, etcetera. The more detailed your image of the room, the more likely it will appear as you desire. It may in fact help you to think of a room you already know that would be suitable, perhaps the room you use for training at home.

"However, much like transfiguration it is an exercise in concentration and intent. You must know what you want, focus on it, and then will it to happen much the same way as your matchstick turning into a needle. Once you have created the room that room will appear as it was when you left it the next time you enter. You won't have to go through this every time."

Zhen nodded, glancing at the wall.

"Should I try then?"

Minerva stepped back toward the trolls.

"Go ahead."

Zhen walked down the corridor the way they had come a few paces and then walked the length of empty wall Minerva had indicated three times, the end of her necklace still clutched in her hand. She stopped and for a moment Minerva feared it had been too daunting at task for a first year. She was wrong. A set of sliding paper doors inked with wispy cherry trees and elegant storks in flight shimmered onto the wall of stone. Zhen grinned and looked back at Minerva over her shoulder. Minerva smiled.

"Well done, Miss Li," she praised, amazed by the details the young girl had conjured on the doors. She knew it had been the castle's magic interpreting the young girl's intentions, but it was still impressive. "Shall we take a look inside?"

"Please," Zhen agreed.

Minerva nodded, gesturing for Zhen to enter ahead of her. It was well she did as Minerva stopped abruptly just inside the doors, her mouth agape as she stared at the room. She'd never seen its equal.

Stepping out of her shoes with a faraway smile, Zhen began to explore the room she had created. Minerva couldn't move, but her eyes followed the child. The stone floors of the castle had been replaced with gleaming hardwood and Zhen's socked feet made no sound as she crossed to the top left-hand corner of the room where several cushions were scattered around a five foot tall marble fountain. Further down the same wall an austere stone mantel framed a roaring fire, warming the room even at the doorway where Minerva still stood. Just past the mantel in the corner to Minerva's left two bookshelves stood corner to corner behind a long, low table surrounded by cushions and covered in parchment, brushes, and ink.

However, Zhen was more interested in the corner to Minerva's right. The young girl opened one of the dozen closets and Minerva's knees nearly gave way. The next closet was opened and the next and the next, each one filled with muggle weaponry. There were swords, knives, lances, wooden staves, armour, bows, arrows, and other objects that Minerva couldn't name. Zhen traced her fingers over each, the child's calm making the contents of Minerva's stomach churn dangerously as the gravity of what she was doing struck with violent intensity.

Except for the corners and the mantel the room was empty. Tightly woven reed mats were rolled against the far wall next to targets, padding, and wooden posts. Minerva swallowed, bothered by the realization that the room was empty because it was designed to train a person for war. Mentally, she had understood the concept of muggle martial arts, but seeing it made it different somehow, especially when the person being trained for war was a child that appeared more at ease in a room of weaponry than Minerva had seen her since her arrival.

"Professor, are you all right?"

The sound of a young man's voice made Minerva jump, her hand reaching for her wand until her eyes spotted the small, leonine creature hovering at Zhen's shoulder, his black eyes watching her worriedly. She hadn't even realized the creature was with them. Zhen turned at her guardian's inquiry, her melancholy expression shifting to one of concern as she met Minerva's gaze.

An armchair appeared with a quiet pop beside the fireplace and without a word Minerva strode toward it, determined to reach its cushioned depths before her knees gave out. She did and gave a small sigh of relief as Zhen sat at her feet, Kero perched on her shoulder. The small guardian eyed Minerva with concern.

"Professor, if you don't feel comfortable doing this, you don't have to," he offered quietly. "I'm more than capable of overseeing Zhen's training now that we have somewhere to do it."

"It's not that," Minerva murmured, removing her square spectacles to pinch the bridge of her nose. "It's just not what I expected."

"I can change the room if you like," Zhen suggested quickly. "What would you like to be different?"

"Truthfully," Minerva managed, meeting the girl's warm brown eyes, "I would like for you not to need this room at all. Tell me, Zhen, have you ever used any of those weapons I saw you inspecting."

Zhen nodded. Her expression was much older than any an eleven year old should wear.

"I have used them all in training," she paused, glancing at Kero who nodded, "and some of them to fight."

Minerva's heart broke with such force she swore she heard an audible crack. Then again, it might have been the fire.

"Have you ever," her throat tightened and she had to swallow several times before she managed to steel her nerves enough to continue. "Have you ever killed someone?"

Zhen shook her head and Minerva felt weak with relief.

"But I have seen other people kill and be killed."

"No child should ever see such things," Minerva snapped, her Scottish brogue thick with fury. "It's not right."

"No, Professor, it's not," agreed Kero gravely, "but it happens to a lot of children. Zhen's not the only one."

An image of a year old Harry crying in Hagrid's arms flashed vividly in Minerva's mind and she had to concede that no, Zhen was not the only child whose innocence had been stolen far too early. She had been teaching during the First War. Students had seen parents slaughtered during a trip to the market, watched as their friends were tortured or murdered during a trip to Hogsmeade, and fought to protect themselves and those they loved long before they left the relative safety of Hogwarts. It had been devastating for Minerva to watch her children suffer then, but it seemed so much more cruel now when there wasn't even a war to blame.

"Professor, your classes teach children to fight with magic," said Kero. Minerva opened her mouth to protest, but the small guardian continued. "You may call that class Defence Against the Dark Arts, but I've studied enough of the spells you use to know there is an offensive component, particularly in wizarding duels. You're teaching these kids to protect themselves, to fight for themselves because you know one day you won't be there to protect them. The Li family is doing the same."

Minerva eyed the toy-like guardian with bewilderment, his insight at odds with his appearance.

"Professor?" Minerva turned her attention to the child at her feet. "The Clow Cards, they're here." Minerva blinked numbly as the girl passed her a thin crimson and gold card labelled_ Windy_. It looked a little like an ornate tarot card. "I sealed this one in the Gryffindor common room this morning. There will be more and I want to be able to help protect the other students and teachers. What I learn here will help with that."

Minerva nodded, feeling the return of her resolute constitution. What she did here with Zhen would be no different than teaching a child a disarming spell, a shield charm, or how to cast a stunner. If that child was lucky, they would never need such knowledge outside these walls, but if they ever did Minerva was going to make _damn_ sure they knew how to do it better than anyone else. Minerva replaced her spectacles with renewed composure and returned the card to Zhen.

"Shall we meet here tomorrow morning then," she proposed briskly. "How long do you usually spend training a day?"

"Three hours," Zhen supplied, "but mother said two would suffice while I'm here."

Minerva nodded, permitting a wry smile as she met the child's gaze.

"Good, because I am not about to get out of bed at three in the morning to supervise anything for anyone. Not even Merlin himself." Zhen grinned and allowed Minerva to lead the way to the door. "Shall we plan on five thirty then? That should give you time to return to your dorm, shower, and get breakfast before your first class."

Zhen grimaced, but nodded as she stepped into her shoes.

"Thank you for doing this, Professor." Zhen held open her robe and Kero flew into an inside pocket. "With Sirius Black on the loose, my mum will worry a lot less about me if I'm not training by myself."

"It's only sensible you be supervised," Minerva stated as they stepped back into the empty hallway and the door behind them faded away. "Now, Miss Li I must caution you to keep the whereabouts of this room to yourself. I don't want to hear rumours of students cavorting about in it unsupervised."

"Of course, Professor."

A few minutes later they had arrived at the portrait of the Fat Lady. The woman bowed slightly to Minerva who nodded stiffly in return.

"Did this little one get lost, Professor," the portrait asked, eying Zhen with interest. "I always worry about them traipsing about the castle so young."

"Miss Li was simply speaking with me about some of her course work," Minerva replied tartly. Gryffindor's portrait was the greatest gossip in the entire castle. "Fortuna Major."

The portrait swung wide, preventing any further comments from its occupant and Zhen stepped through, waving to Minerva as the portrait snapped shut behind her. Ignoring the renewed chatter of Gryffindor's Fat Lady, Minerva began making her way to the headmaster's office. He would want to know about the appearance of the Clow Cards if he wasn't aware already. Minerva swore sometimes the old codger and the castle were on speaking terms.

However, her thoughts abruptly shifted from the headmaster and his strange ways when she met Harry and his two ever-present compatriots on the sixth floor landing. The trio froze, eying her anxiously.

"And just where is it that you three are coming from at this time of night," she inquired, quickly noting the flush of their cheeks and the dampness of their hair. Her stomach clenched. "I better not find you three were out wandering the grounds after dark. The dementors will not discriminate between you and Black, discounting the fact that Black is on the loose to begin with."

A chorus of 'yes M'am' told Minerva that outside was exactly where they'd been as she shooed them up to the tower. It was nights like this that made Minerva envy Pomona Sprout and her bashful badgers.

Merlin, what she wouldn't give for a glass of firewhiskey.

To be continued...

Sorry we didn't get to Harry's unexpected present. The introduction of Zhen's roommates was much longer than I anticipated, largely due to the fact that I discovered they were much less boring than I expected them to be :P First thing next chapter though I promise!

NEXT – Harry gets an unexpected gift, Malfoy gets an unexpected letter, and Zhen's first flying lesson takes an unexpected turn. Stay tuned! (Next chapter will have more Harry, promise!)

ALSO – Check out my HPverse story - Harry Potter and the Dark Lord's Daughter ~ The stunner Hermione sends at Nott in the Department of Mysteries hits Harry instead, driving him back into the shelves in the Room of Prophecies and knocking him unconscious. When he wakes a short time later he finds a battle being waged around him and is unable to remember who he or anyone else is. Terrified, he runs, only to be found wandering London by a young witch named Moira Carnahan and her muggle family. Isolated from the magical world, Moira and her parents take Harry in unaware of who he is or that the wizarding world is frantically searching for him until Moira sees his picture on the  
front of the Daily Prophet. While Harry struggles to come to terms with a past and a destiny he can't remember, Moira's mother struggles with a secret she's kept from her daughter for years, a secret that could put Harry and Moira in even more danger: Moira is Voldemort's  
daughter. Both bound irrevocably to Voldemort, Harry and Moira feel a shared obligation to bring an end to his war. The Chosen One and the Dark Lord's daughter – can they rid themselves of the Dark Lord's shadow? And having been forgotten by Harry, will his friends still stand with him against Voldemort? Will the wizarding world forgive them if they do?


	5. CH 4: Of Hidden Books

An extensive knowledge of the anime/manga series isn't necessary to enjoy this story as it is set in Harry Potter's world and will focus on that timeline. All necessary knowledge of the series will be included in the story that follows. I hope you will enjoy it! P.S. In case it isn't explicitly implied by my writing on a fanfiction site...I don't own either series. Characters and events not related to either series are my own. Cheers!

**Summary:** Sakura dies unexpectedly and Xiao Lang's cousin Zhen Li – a 1st year student at Hogwarts – becomes the next cardcaptor. While getting her supplies in Diagon Alley she meets Harry, changing his fate and hers as the two become friends, perhaps more. Harry becomes Zhen's ally in capturing and protecting the Clow Cards. Zhen in turn helps Harry to discover the true power of the Chosen One, power he never would have believed he could possess, as he faces Sirius Black, the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and the Dark Lord himself. However, both are unaware that the mysterious sorceress hunting Zhen has joined forces with the Dark Lord, making Harry's task even more difficult. With two of the most powerful magical beings in existence as their adversaries and an unparalleled darkness rising Zhen and Harry struggle to sort friend from foe in a world where friends are enemies and enemies are friends. A wrong choice could mean their death.

ATTENTION - These are the relationships/pairings I'm expecting at this point. They are subject to the whims of my muses...and if they're convincing enough, my readers ;) This is not a romance story and will be more action centric, but most of us find someone sometime, so it plays a fairly significant role when you're dealing with this many characters over a five book period. Lol. Just thought you might like to know where we're headed. Powerful Harry, Sirius x Harry – father figure, Remus x Zhen – father figure, Harry x Zhen, Hermione x Nate, Draco x Astoria, Ron x Emily, Neville x Hannah, Ginny x Viktor, Luna x Edmund, Remus x Lian. As to how or when I might match them...you'll have to read to find out! :P

Chapter 4: Of Hidden Books, Persistent Fathers, and Flying Lessons

"Focus, Zhen. You're not paying attention."

As if her body were surreptitiously attempting to ally itself with her peevish guardian Zhen suddenly found her left ankle hooked in front of her right. With a graceless squawk she lurched forward, unsurprised when an arrow pierced the hood of her sweatshirt, pulling her off her feet and tacking her to the nearest wall. She reached behind her hurriedly, her eyes on the small archer she had summoned with the _Arrow_ card as she wrenched the bolt from wall. The minute her feet hit the floor she was running, but it wasn't enough. Clenching her jaw she braced herself as a burning spark from the _Shot_ soared through the air and slammed into her torso. She felt its heat as her back hit the floor, forcing the air from her lungs.

"I told you to pay attention."

Zhen opened one eye, glaring at Kero as he floated a few inches above her prone form. Their task completed, the two spirits Zhen had summoned to practice with vanished, returning to two crimson and gold embossed Clow Cards. They shimmered slightly as they floated to Zhen's open hand and through the bond she shared with them she sensed their mirth. She stuck out her tongue.

"Keep it up you two and I'll give you to a house elf for fire starters." Zhen groaned as she pushed herself up into a sitting position and pressed gingerly against her stomach. She winced. "I'm just glad you guys are on my side."

"What you should really be glad about is them holding back," Kero grumbled as he perched on Zhen's knee, pointing accusingly at the two cards in Zhen's hand. "They could sense your distraction and they went easy on you. You'll never learn to protect yourself that way."

Zhen felt twin flashes of embarrassment and defensiveness from the cards and knew Kero was right. She smiled. It was nice to know that the Clow Cards cared enough about her to try and spare her when she was preoccupied. It meant that the cards were beginning to bond with her and as Kero was constantly reminding her, when wielding magic that had its own will like the spell-imbued spirits sealed within the Clow Cards, it was essential to form a bond with them. If you didn't they might refuse to do as you asked, which in the middle of a battle could get you killed.

"Kero's right, guys," Zhen admitted as she used her blossoming magic to levitate the two cards in front of her. "No one's going to take it easy on me just because I'm distracted. The harder you are on me the better I'll be able to defend myself and you." She winked. "Not that I don't appreciate the sentiment."

"Where's your head this morning anyway," Kero asked, hovering over Zhen's left shoulder as she began to stretch. "Your focus is usually really good."

Zhen blushed as she swiped at the sweat running down the side of her face with a towel.

"I have my first flying lesson today."

Kero smacked his paw against his forehead and chuckled, shaking his head.

"I should have known."

"Does the thought of flying make you nervous, Miss Li," Professor McGonagall queried absently, not looking up from the papers she was marking on the far side of the room. "It's nothing to be ashamed of. Many of our first year students find the idea of flying distressing."

Zhen grinned.

"No M'am, I'm not afraid at all."

Professor McGonagall looked up from the desk the room had supplied for her in front of the fireplace, her expression puzzled.

"Zhen loves to fly, Professor," Kero explained as Zhen slid easily into the splits. "She's been flying almost since she could walk and it's been distracting her from her lessons almost as long."

Zhen threw her towel at Kero, grinning when she successfully knocked her guardian out of the air.

"It's not my fault you guys are all softies. All I had to do was pout and one of you would take me flying."

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and Zhen was surprised to find the seasoned professor's eyes twinkling.

"I'd be interested to see how Keroberos managed to take you flying. He must be much stronger than his size suggests."

Kero scowled and Zhen tried to hide her grin. Professor McGonagall had quickly caught on to the fact that Kero was very sensitive about his size in this form and teased him about it mercilessly. Not that Zhen could really blame Kero for being a bit defensive. There's a big difference between looking like a giant winged lion and an eight inch plush toy.

"I didn't fly her around like this," Kero finally managed through clenched teeth. "My true form is a lot bigger. I was able to fly Zhen on my back easily."

"The more you speak of it, the more interested I am to see this true form of yours, Keroberos," Professor McGonagall remarked, the right corner of her mouth twitching upwards. "It hardly seems possible that it could live up to your descriptions."

Kero's glower deepened, his tail switching angrily like the pendulum of a clock that's been too tightly wound.

"I promise it's every bit as impressive as you imagine, Professor."

Professor McGonagall nodded absent-mindedly and made a note on the parchment in front of her. Her indifference made Kero's tail swing faster. Zhen giggled as she pulled her arms up over her head. At first she'd been unnerved by how open her usually stern professor was while watching over her every morning. It had only taken a single class with the woman to establish in Zhen's mind that Minerva McGonagall was a force to be reckoned with. Here however, when only Zhen and Kero were present, her severe features softened slightly, her eyes held a spark of mischief, and the sharp edge of her words was dulled by what Zhen was beginning to believe was affection. McGonagall was still more reserved than Professors Lupin or Flitwick, but beneath her hard exterior Zhen suspected her head of house had a very gentle heart, a quality Zhen found very reassuring being so far from her family.

A small chime sounded, cutting off the retort Zhen could see building on her guardian's face. She stood, wrapping her towel around the base of her neck as she slid her bare feet into the silk slippers she wore in the castle corridors. A week of making the short dash from the Gryffindor common room to the Room of Requirement every morning had taught her that slippers were a necessity, even if they were at odds with the muggle shorts and sweat shirt she wore for training. It might only be September, but Hogwarts stone floors held all the frosty bite of January this early in the morning.

Zhen held out her hood for Kero to hide in as Professor McGonagall joined them at the door, a small stack of marked assignments in hand.

"I hope you enjoy your first flying lesson, Miss Li. Do be careful though," she warned, smiling as she briefly squeezed Zhen's shoulder. "Madame Hooch is a first rate instructor, but the school brooms tend to have a mind of their own." Professor McGonagall opened the door and Zhen stepped through. "I will see you tomorrow morning."

"Thank you, Professor," Zhen chirped excitedly, her professor's warning not diminishing her enthusiasm for flying in the least as she ran ahead to the Gryffindor portrait. The Fat Lady opened one eye and mumbled something about the impudence of early morning risers. Zhen rolled her eyes having quickly acclimated to the portrait's sour early-morning countenance. "Fortuna Major."

Without further remark the portrait swung open and Zhen stepped inside.

"That painting is testier than you are this early in the morning, Kero," Zhen commented as they stepped into the common room. "She might even be worse than Granddad without his early morning tea."

"Zhen? Who are you talking to?"

Zhen stopped short just inside the Gryffindor common room, her eyes searching for the source of the voice as her heart threatened to beat its way out of her ribcage. She relaxed only slightly when she spotted Hermione sitting on the far side of the room at one of the tables beneath the windows. The older girl was eying her curiously and Zhen recognized on some level that she was waiting for an answer. Unfortunately, Zhen couldn't think of one.

Kero tapped the back of her head sharply and hissed,

"Say something."

Zhen blinked.

"I, uh, was just talking to myself," she stammered clumsily, "about the portrait. She's very grumpy this early in the morning."

Zhen winced inwardly at her inept attempt at speech. She'd never been any good at lying. Even if her story was plausible she always got caught trying to tell it. She turned beet red from head to toe and her words came out in short bursts, a fact her mother was very quick to remind her of whenever she tried to lie about missing her lessons. Fortunately for Zhen, Hermione was unaware of her affliction and although she gave Zhen a rather odd look, she seemed to accept her story quite easily.

"Why were you out so early anyway," the older girl questioned as Zhen joined her at her table. Hermione scrunched her nose. "And why are you all sweaty?"

Zhen laughed, swiping the edge of her towel over her face again.

"Sorry, I'm on my way to get a shower, I promise." Hermione grinned weakly and Zhen ploughed on, reciting the explanation her mother and Xiao Lang had devised for her when the inevitable question of where she went each morning arose. "My mother's family is very traditional. Before they would allow me to come to Hogwarts they met with the Headmaster and Professor McGonagall to make arrangements for me to continue my other studies, especially my martial arts."

Hermione's coffee eyes widened.

"Martial arts? As in fighting?"

Zhen nodded and smiled indulgently, used to the horrified reaction of people who had not been raised in her culture. She could almost hear the echoes of the words barbaric and uncivilized in their minds, especially in the magic community. Wizards tended to snub any form of physical combat. Muggles were actually more open-minded about it, although Zhen would never say so in front of people like Priya or Draco.

"Yes, as in fighting, although for someone my age practicing martial arts is mostly an exercise in discipline, focus, and control. It's not as if they're expecting me to go off and fight a war."

Hermione's cheeks darkened slightly.

"No, I suppose not," she admitted. "Do you enjoy it?"

"I love it," Zhen assured the older girl. "I started lessons when I was three and now I can't imagine not doing it."

"I suppose it's really no different than a parent enrolling their child in gymnastics or ballet," Hermione mused aloud, sweeping the feather of her quill across her bottom lip pensively. The quill stopped abruptly and Hermione eyed Zhen curiously. "But you said your mother's _family_ was the one to decide whether you could come to Hogwarts. Wouldn't it be your mother's choice?"

It wasn't a question Zhen had anticipated so she was both pleased and surprised to find herself with a suitable answer.

"Where I come from some of the more traditional families, like my mother's, still choose to be governed by a council of family heads." Zhen was careful to omit the fact that the families that chose to live that way were all magical. "You might think of it as if all of your relatives chose to live in a single town. When an important decision needs be made regarding any family member – like the arrangement of a betrothal or my travelling thousands of miles to go to school – the heads of each of the families within the Li family gather to discuss what the best choice is."

"You mean this council decides how you live your life? You don't get a choice? That's appalling! What about free will?"

Zhen laughed, amused rather than insulted by Hermione's indignation. She knew it stemmed from lack of knowledge rather than contempt. All branches of Britain's government were democracies. She'd never been exposed to other more communal forms of government.

"We still have free will, Hermione," Zhen corrected gently. "I did say that we _choose _to be governed by the council. We aren't forced into it. We are free to leave at any time." Hermione calmed considerably at Zhen's reassurances. "But being part of my family can also have its advantages. When my dad disappeared the council arranged for my mother and me to be cared for. We were given a place to live and an allowance so that Mum could stay home and take care of me. They'll pay for my schooling here at Hogwarts and any other education they feel I need as well."

"That's so different from anything I've ever heard of, even in the magical world," said Hermione, her eyes shining with interest. "My schooling before I came to Hogwarts focused entirely on Europe and the Americas. I've never considered how different cultures in other parts of the world must be."

"Careful kid," whispered Kero. "She's looking at you like you're a specimen in a jar."

Zhen pretended to scratch the back of her head and shoved Kero further down in her hood, ignoring his muffled protests as Hermione continued.

"I would think there must be as many differences in the magical communities as well. Do you know much about the magical community in China, Zhen? Or have any books on the subject? It would be so interesting to compare their culture with ours."

Zhen felt herself turning a brilliant shade of red.

"Sorry, Hermione," she stuttered. "The estate where I grew up was pretty isolated and I spent a lot of my childhood in Japan."

"Really? You're so lucky to have been so many places," Hermione gushed. "I've only ever been to France with my parents. When I get through at Hogwarts I would love to travel all over the world – Italy, Russia, China, Egypt, the Caribbean, Canada, Brazil, Australia – there are so many interesting places in the world."

"If you do travel to China you should go to India as well," Zhen advised. "It's beautiful there. I've been to most of the countries in Asia and aside from China and Japan, India was definitely my favorite."

"I'll remember that," said Hermione, glancing at her watch. The older girl swore, her previous relaxed state and normal teenage exuberance evaporating in an instant. "Sorry, Zhen, I don't mean to be rude, but I really do need to finish this translation for Ancient Runes before breakfast."

Zhen nodded, noticing for the first time just how many books Hermione had piled around her on the table. She'd taken an entire table for herself and still had two large stacks of books piled at her feet.

"Hermione, how do you fit all of these subjects into five days of classes? You've got loads more than either Harry or Ron."

Hermione became intensely interested in the segment of runes she'd copied for translation, avoiding Zhen's eyes even when she looked up at her textbook.

"It's not really that many classes," Hermione stated defensively, her words coming so fast Zhen had trouble understanding them. "It probably just seems that way because I work a lot harder than either Harry or Ron. Neither is a paragon of good study habits. I certainly wouldn't use them to gauge a proper third year work load."

"Oh, all right then," Zhen murmured, puzzled by the girl's sudden rancour. Hermione continued writing furiously as if she hadn't even heard Zhen. Slightly stung, Zhen began to make her way up the stairs to the girls' dormitories. "I wonder what I said that upset her. I thought we were getting on quite well."

"She's hiding something," Kero whispered, poking his head out from Zhen's hood. "You need to be careful of her."

"Not everyone who treats me badly is hiding something," Zhen protested irritably, bothered by her guardian's suspicions about one of her new friends. "And even if she were hiding something, that something wouldn't necessarily be something that's a danger to me. Everyone has secrets."

"She's been using powerful time magic, Zhen, the kind of magic that kids like her shouldn't have access to."

Zhen stopped in the middle of the staircase and looked over her shoulder at her guardian. He might make her cross, he might act like a goofball, but Kero's skill for sensing magic outstripped even her mother and Xiao Lang. It wasn't something he would joke about either.

"Time magic? W-what would Hermione be doing using time magic? It's dangerous, not to mention draining. Do you think she's in danger, Kero? What if something's wrong and she needs help?"

Kero sighed.

"I don't know why she would be using time magic, Zhen, and to be honest, whether your bushy-haired friend is in danger isn't my concern. Not unless her being in danger puts you in danger."

"Kero, Hermione is my friend. If she's in danger I might be able to help her. I _want_ to help her."

Above them one of the dormitory doors opened and closed. Someone was coming.

"We'll talk about it later, kid," Kero hissed as he slipped back into her hood. "Give me some time to think, okay?"

Zhen nodded and began trudging up the stairs, her excitement about her flying lesson completely overshadowed by her concern for Hermione. She'd only known the girl a little more than a week, but apart from Harry and Cam, she was Zhen's closest friend. She'd helped her draw a map to her classes so that she wouldn't get lost, she came to visit her every night on her way to bed as long as it wasn't too late, and she stuck up for her when Ron was getting snarky. Regardless of what Kero might say, if Hermione was in danger Zhen would try to find a way to help her.

"There you are." Zhen jumped, startled from her grim thoughts by Finley's merry greeting. Her concern for Hermione must have shown on her face though, because Finley's ever-present smile dimmed. "Are you all right, Zhen?"

Zhen nodded, forcing a smile.

"Yeah, I'm fine. You just startled me, that's all. I was trying to work through the last bit of my assignment for Charms."

Finley looked doubtful, but didn't press.

"Cam sent me. Marcia's starting to wake up and she thought you might want to get in the shower before she does."

Zhen grabbed her roommate's hand and started pelting up the stairs.

"Why didn't you say so," she demanded, all thoughts of Hermione put aside in lieu of a greater threat. "I should have been paying better attention to the time."

Finley staggered, struggling to keep up with Zhen's frantic pace.

"W-what's the rush," she panted.

"Last time Marcia got in the shower before me I was late for class."

"S-so, Flitwick didn't give y-you detention for it."

"I know," Zhen answered, not slowing her pace, "but we don't have Flitwick first this morning."

Finley's eyes widened, her shocked expression stretching her freckled features.

"We have, Snape."

Zhen nodded. Her first potions lessons with Snape had gone well. Having a world-class potions master for a grandmother had definitely paid off. Zhen had been helping her grandmother in her private potions lab since she was five and had been more than able to complete the tasks the surly dungeon-dwelling professor had set for them. She had even managed to earn her house a begrudging five points. However, a week in the Gryffindor common room hearing stories of Snape's malice had made her all but desperate to avoid a confrontation with the man.

When they reached the landing for the first year dorms Tess was holding the door open with Zhen's towel, toiletry bag, and robe in hand.

"You better hurry," she warned. "Cam's holding her off, but I'm not sure how much longer she can last."

Zhen managed a quick 'thanks' as she snatched her belongings out of Tess' arms and tore into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her. Through the door she heard Cam whoop 'Victory!' as Marcia squealed in protest. Kero flew out of her hood and slid the deadbolt across the door as Zhen slid to the floor in a fit of laughter.

"Your headmaster definitely needs to think about adding a second shower stall." Kero flinched as Marcia pounded on the door. "And maybe a stronger door."

* * *

Harry, sharing a dorm with four boys, none of whom required more than five minutes in the shower, was little concerned with the number of shower stalls in his dorm's bathroom. He was, however, very concerned about the fact that he'd misplaced his transfiguration text.

"You're sure it's not somewhere around your bed, Ron," Harry asked as he tossed one of Ron's trainers in the redhead's direction. "I could have sworn I set it on that side of my bed."

"Mate, it's not here. You've already looked under every piece of clothing I own, twice."

"You know, Ron, they do have this novel device called a trunk, that big, boxy, empty thing at the end of your bed? It's made especially for putting things in."

"Yeah, except Ron's laundry's been on the floor so long not even the house elves know what's dirty and what's clean," said Seamus Finnegan with a grin. Ron scowled at the Irish boy's taunt, hurling one of his mother's knitted sweater's at him. "Oi! Keep yer filthy laundry to yourself Weasley."

"Yeah, you've got enough of your own," Dean Thomas quietly supplied. "Not to mention that you've got more pairs of shoes than Lavender."

Harry shook his head as Seamus vehemently disputed Dean's claim, adding that for all his part of the room might look a mess he had a carefully arranged system. Ron snorted.

"Some system," he muttered, "filth, rot, and grunge. I'm a slob and even I know better than to believe _he's_ got a system."

Harry grinned at his friend as he poked his head under his bed for the fourth time in the last fifteen minutes.

"It's got to be here somewhere," he mumbled, blowing a dust bunny out of his face. "How does it get so dirty under here in just a week?"

"One of life's mysteries, Mate," Ron supplied, helpfully rearranging the stack of clean laundry at the end of Harry's bed in case the book had been slipped inside. "I reckon you're out of luck. If you don't find it in another thirty seconds we won't have time for breakfast."

Harry didn't have the heart to tell Ron he'd miss breakfast if it meant he didn't have to tell McGonagall he'd lost her textbook only a week into term. He pushed himself out from under his bed and started brushing the dust off his robes.

"Have you tried your trunk, Harry," a timid voice enquired. Harry froze. "I-I just hadn't seen you check it, maybe you already have –

"Neville, you're a genius," Harry roared, shooting to his feet and nearly knocking both Neville and Ron over as he made a mad dash for his trunk. "My trunk! I should have thought of that ages ago."

Ron chuckled and shook his head as Neville blushed.

"G-glad I could help, Harry."

Harry nodded, absently acknowledging the shy boy's statement as he heaved the lid of his trunk and started rummaging through its contents. He threw the rest of his laundry – clean but no longer folded – onto his bed and began sorting through the detritus of books, parchment, and quills that resided in the bottom of his trunk. He didn't usually keep the books he was using for his current classes in his trunk, but having only been back at school a week, it was possible.

He threw aside _Quidditch Through the Ages_ and bellowed in triumph. There, sitting beside his potions kit, was his transfiguration text.

"Finally, now can we go get breakfast?"

Harry was used to Ron's primary concern being his stomach and easily acceded to his friend's surly request.

"Just let me put everything back in here and we'll go, I promise."

He grabbed a handful of socks off his bed and was poised to chuck them back in his trunk when something caught his eye. He paused at the sight of the emerald leather cover embossed with a strange symbol. It was a circle and around the inside perimeter a number of smaller symbols were stamped, a large sun and moon imprinted on opposite sides of the centre. He was positive he'd never seen the book in his life.

Tossing the socks back onto the bed Harry bent and lifted the strange book out of his trunk. It was thicker than he'd thought and heavier. He flipped open the cover and inside in fine muggle font was printed _The Hidden Truths of Eastern Magic_. Frowning Harry thumbed through the pages. It certainly wasn't a book he needed for any of his classes. The only one it could possibly be used for was Binns' class and he'd never assign something so interesting. He didn't think it was something Hermione had given him either.

"What's that," Ron queried, peering over Harry's shoulder. "A book? Mate you're getting to be as bad as Hermione. The book will still be here after breakfast, I promise. You can even bring it _to_ breakfast for all I care as long as we go. I'm wasting away here."

"But Ron, it's not mine," said Harry. "I've never seen it before in my life."

Ron arched a brow.

"If it's not yours then how did it get into your trunk?"

Before Harry had a chance to answer Ron paled and swung wildly, smacking the book out of Harry's hands.

"What the devil was that for," Harry demanded, shaking his left hand as he bent to pick up the book.

"Harry, don't," Ron shouted, visibly panicked. "What if it's like that book Malfoy slipped us last year?"

"It's a muggle book, Ron," Harry explained wearily, glad his other roommates had already gone down to breakfast. He didn't want them reminded of the Heir of Slytherin, especially Seamus. "Besides, it has writing in it. Riddle's diary was blank."

"It could have a different curse on it," Ron protested, grabbing Harry's hand when he tried to pick up the book. "You can't tell just by looking."

"Muggles don't curse their books, Ron," Harry snapped, wrenching his arm from Ron's grasp. "They can't!"

"No, but what's stopping a wizard from cursing a muggle book?" Harry paused, his hand hovering over the spine. "We ought to get McGonagall."

"I've already touched it and nothing happened, Ron," Harry said, gingerly pinching the book between the forefinger and thumb of his left hand as if it might bite him. "I promise I won't read it until we figure out where it's come from."

Apparently mollified by Harry's unusual demonstration of caution, Ron crouched silently beside him squinting at the book.

"You're sure you don't remember picking it up somewhere?"

"Positive," Harry assured his friend. "I've never been to a muggle bookstore."

Harry regretted the admission as soon as the words left his lips, but Ron was either too distracted by the book to notice or he felt avoiding bookstores in general to be a good life choice. Slowly, Harry turned the book so that he could see the cover again, trying to decipher the strange symbols inside the circle. As he did, a piece of folded parchment slipped from between the pages and onto the floor. Glancing warily at Ron, Harry set the book aside and using the tips of his fingers pried open the parchment. His eyes flicked quickly to the signature at the bottom and his shoulders sagged with relief.

"It's from Hayward Parish, Zhen's grandfather," he informed Ron as he dropped to the floor and picked up the letter, confident in its author's good intentions. Ron settled on the floor just behind him, breakfast forgotten as Harry began reading aloud. "_Dear Mr Potter, I hope this letter finds you settled safely in Hogwarts castle and that you will forgive my contravention of your privacy in placing this book in your trunk when it was loaded into my car. I would not have done so were it not imperative that you read it. You may think me a meddler and that is your right, but you must know that your Headmaster has not fully disclosed to you the danger you are facing. Perhaps even he himself is not aware. _

"_I am not speaking of Sirius Black, but of a far more insidious peril that I am told you have already faced twice since your arrival at Hogwarts, Lord Voldemort. Voldemort is not dead. Do not trust anyone who tells you otherwise. He will rise again and when he does I believe you will find the knowledge contained within this text invaluable. Tom is seeking new allies – or rather they are seeking him – allies that use an older kind of magic, a kind of magic Hogwarts will not prepare you to face. It is my greatest hope that this book will help in that endeavour. _

"_Remember that you are not alone, Mr Potter. You've friends you don't even realize able and willing to help you, if you but ask it of us. Feel free to write me should you find this letter distressing. It is not my intention to alarm you, only to prepare you for what is to come. Sincerely yours, Lord Hayward Parish."_

"Wait, Zhen's granddad is a lord?"

Harry's head swivelled slowly, his mouth agape, as he looked at Ron incredulously.

"That's what you got out of that?" Harry glared at his friend. "Ron! He's just told me that Voldemort is still out there, trying to get me, and that he's making friends with some ancient-magic-wielding freaks and you're stuck on the fact that Mr Parish has a noble title?"

Ron blinked and shrugged.

"Sorry, Mate, but I just don't see how that's a lot different than anything else you've faced with you-know-who."

"Voldemort," Harry cut in fiercely, taking a measure vindictive of satisfaction in seeing Ron flinch violently. "His name is Voldemort!"

"All right, all right," Ron conceded. "But saying his name or not doesn't change my point. I mean, first year he had Quirrell helping him, last year there was the diary and that giant-sized basilisk. So he's got some new friends. We'll just figure out how to beat them like we did the last two times."

Harry slumped against his bed.

"Ron, we didn't figure anything out the last time." His voice was barely more than a whisper, his mind's eye seeing nothing but the dank basilisk chamber as his arm twinged painfully. "It was just a fluke that Quirrell touching me did something to Voldemort and that Fawkes arrived in time to heal me."

Ron scowled, his nose an inch from Harry's as he shouted loud enough to make Harry's ears ring.

"It was no fluke that we made it through that vine thing or the flying keys or that chess game or any of the rest of it and it wasn't a fluke that you used the sword to kill that monster and save my sister! You did that, Harry! You, with us helping you, you did it and we'll do whatever we have to do to beat whatever you-know-who and Sirius Black or any of his other cronies have got for you next."

Harry was suddenly too tired to argue with Ron about Voldemort's name. A wave of exhaustion and despair had slammed into his chest and dragged him under their weighty tide. Breathing was taking far too much energy and he wanted nothing more than to climb back into bed. He'd known – he'd never said it – but he'd known that the Chamber of Secrets wouldn't be the last time he saw Voldemort. He hadn't needed Hayward Parish to remind him that the monster that killed his parents was still alive.

Someone knocked at the door and Ron called for them to come in, knowing as Harry did that the only one who ever – if only sometimes – knocked on their door was Hermione.

"I got so caught up in my translation that I didn't realize how late it was getting. I thought you two would already have gone," she said as she dropped her bulging bag on the foot of Harry's bed. She paused, her eyes narrowing as she looked between the two boys. "All right, out with it."

Harry didn't have the energy to explain. He simply passed the letter over his shoulder. She read it at least a half dozen times before she asked to see the book. Neither Harry nor Ron said anything as she skimmed its page of contents, flipping quickly through its pages. Both had learned it was no good to try to talk to Hermione when she was studying something.

"His letter really is quite vague," she began, settling on Harry's bed just behind him. "'_Allies that use an older kind of magic, a kind of magic Hogwarts will not prepare you to face.'_ It could really mean anything, but when coupled with a book on eastern magic, the meaning seems fairly obvious. The allies you-know-who is seeking or are seeking him must be practitioners of eastern magic. You've grown up in the wizarding world, Ron. Do you know anything about magic in the east?"

Harry looked his right. Ron shook his head.

"Sorry, the only thing I know about them is that nobody here knows much about them. They don't have a formalized government like we do. They're still ruled by clans, so the ministry won't have much to do with them. Says it's uncivilized, but according to Bill rumor is that the clans are actually much more effective and tolerant than our ministry."

"Clans as in ruling families?"

Ron nodded. Harry tipped his head back and looked up at Hermione. He knew that tone of voice. Hermione had figured something out, or was on her way to it.

"Spill," he commanded.

"Well, it's just that I was talking to Zhen this morning. Did you know she does martial arts every morning before classes?" Harry shook his head and sensed Ron doing the same. "Well, she told me that her mother's family wouldn't let her come to Hogwarts unless Professor Dumbledore was willing to accommodate her martial arts training."

"Martial arts," Ron said with a grimace. "Like two blokes going at each other with fists and feet and stuff? That's ghastly."

"No more than an unforgivable," Hermione reminded their magic-raised friend dismissively. Ron blushed. "And that wasn't my point. My point was that it was Zhen's _family_ that made the decision, not her mother. She said some families in China are still ruled by a council of family heads and that those people make decisions for everyone within the family."

"You're thinking Zhen could be from one of these magical clans?"

Hermione nodded.

"It would make sense wouldn't it? I mean, with her being able to see auras and being chosen to attend Hogwarts. She's clearly magical and she did say her mother wasn't a muggle."

"All she said was that her mother didn't go to Hogwarts," Harry corrected, a small part of him wondering if his brilliant friend might be right as he remembered the magic he'd felt the day he first met Lian in Diagon Alley. "Her mother could have gone to another wizarding school. Besides, her dad was a wizard."

"That still doesn't explain why her mother's family would get to decide whether she came to Hogwarts," Hermione persisted. "Don't you find that odd?"

"No, what I find odd is the fact that I get a letter telling me that Voldemort is going to be back more powerful than ever and my two friends are stuck on the fact that the guy that wrote the letter is a lord and that Zhen's family let her come to Hogwarts," said Harry tersely. "I want to know what Voldemort's planning and how to stop him!"

"You missed my point, Harry," Hermione prompted gently. "My point wasn't that Zhen might be from a magical _family_, but that she might be from a _magical_ family."

"Because that's clear," Ron muttered.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"What I mean, Ron, is that maybe Hayward is trying to tell Harry something about Zhen and her family by giving him that book. Maybe Zhen or her family are the ones trying to become you-know-who's allies."

"Even if Zhen's family is magical," Hermione opened her mouth, but Harry held up his hand. "No, Hermione, even if Zhen's family is magical, that doesn't mean that they're Voldemort's allies. Ron's family is magical too."

"Yeah, and they're about as against you-know-who as you can get," piped Ron. "Having a magical family doesn't make the girl evil, even I'll say that much."

"But why wouldn't she tell us?"

"Hermione, even I've only known her for less than a month. How much did you know about Ron and me in less than a month?" Hermione cheeks flushed pink, suitably chastened. "Zhen's family is Zhen's business. It's private unless she wants to share that information with us. Besides, I really don't think Zhen or her mum would want to help Voldemort since they're pretty sure he's the one that killed Zhen's dad."

"I forgot about that," Hermione whispered, stricken. "I can't believe I thought that Zhen might...I feel awful."

Harry bumped his head gently against Hermione's knee, smiling reassuringly.

"It's okay, Hermione." Hermione looked at him dubiously. "You were just trying to look out for me as objectively as you could. I know you like Zhen too. You would have figured out she wasn't Voldemort's latest henchman soon enough. I mean, why would he pick a first year student like Zhen when he's got Black?"

"You know, Black could be the one with the ancient magic too. The Blacks are one of the oldest and darkest families around. Maybe he's got ties to these people in the east and _that's_ why Mr Parish gave you the book." Hermione blinked and looked at Ron as if she'd never seen him before. "What?"

"That's actually a very plausible theory, Ron."

"Could you not say it as if you never expected it to happen?"

"Ron, it's not that, it's just that sometimes," Hermione paused and Harry grinned as she struggled to find the most inoffensive way of stating that Ron was generally a very obtuse person. "It's just that –

"Keep that up and I won't tell you my other great idea," he interjected haughtily, crossing his arms over his chest.

Hermione frowned and Harry laughed.

"Tell us, oh wise one," he urged, offering Ron a mocking bow.

Ron gave Harry a shove, but answered anyway.

"I was thinking that if you really want to know why Zhen's granddad would give you a book on eastern magic, the best thing might be to ask Zhen. I mean, the Parishes have lived in Hong Kong for almost fifty years. Maybe the fact that he's Zhen's granddad is irrelevant. He could be giving Harry the book to warn him about something or someone that everybody knows about over there and we just don't know what or who it is. Zhen might."

"Two brilliant ideas and the proper use of the word irrelevant. Who are you and what have you done with Ron Weasley?"

Harry laughed, ducking Ron's half-hearted swing.

"I've always been this brilliant, you've just been too bloody busy to notice," said Ron with a grin, pushing off the floor and reaching for his rucksack. "Now, if you don't mind, I've had enough of sorting through the mess of Harry's life for one morning. I'm going to breakfast, that is if Fred and George have left any."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Now that sounds more like the Ron I know."

"And what's wrong with that?"

Harry shook his head, tucking the book from Mr Parish under his arm as he followed his two bickering friends down to the Great Hall. Much as their arguing sometimes irked him, it could also be a welcome distraction from the drama of his own life. He even wondered if sometimes – like now – they did it to amuse him. Ron's sarcasm and Hermione's fierce rejoinders just didn't have their usual bite and by the time they'd reached the Great Hall the two were laughing about Seamus' failed attempt to ask out a girl from Hufflepuff after History of Magic the day before. A real fight usually ended in Ron exploding or Hermione storming off and giving him the silent treatment for a week.

"You coming, Harry?"

Harry blinked. He hadn't even realized he'd stopped. He glanced at Ron who nodded at a big plate of sausages in front of Fred and Lee Jordan and shook his head.

"You guys go on, I'm going to go ask Zhen about this book now or I'll be thinking about it all day."

Ron waved him off and Hermione looked between them briefly before jogging to catch up with Harry. Harry looked over at her and raised a brow.

"I'm not as devout a follower of sausages as Ron," she explained. "I'm sure there will be something equally suitable where Zhen's sitting." She glanced at her watch. "However, we don't have much time no matter where we sit."

"I'll be quick," Harry promised. "We won't be late."

Zhen was sitting with three other girls and a boy, all of whom Harry recognized as first years. Another larger huddle of Gryffindor first years was sitting a little further up the table and the girl to Zhen's right was pointing at them with an angry expression on her face.

"It's all right, Cam," he heard Zhen assure the girl with a messy braid and furious chocolate eyes. "At least they talk to me now."

"Aye, and if they're that sort of friends, they're not the sort of friends you want to be havin'," stated the boy as he took a Ron-sized bite out of a biscuit smeared with jam. "Don' pay them any attention."

"Are the others still giving you trouble, Zhen," Harry asked as he took the seat to Zhen's left. "I thought things were getting better."

"They are," Zhen assured him, offering a rather timid wave to Hermione who smiled. "They're all right with me in the common room now. They just don't really want to be seen with me in front of the other houses. Too much of a chance they'd get in the line of fire, I think."

"Is it Malfoy? I'd love an excuse to hex him."

"Harry, that's hardly a proper attitude," Hermione scolded as she bailed a spoonful of eggs onto Harry's plate. "You've avoided getting into trouble for an entire week. Can't you hold out just a little longer?"

"It's not as if Malfoy ever has a proper attitude with anyone," Harry grumbled, scooping a forkful of eggs into his mouth. "I'd only be giving him what he deserves."

"It's actually not Malfoy at all," Zhen interjected, sparing Harry the scathing rebuke he could see snapping in Hermione's eyes. "It's the students in my year. I think the upper years have forgotten all about me."

"Probably," Harry agreed as he buttered a piece of toast. "The students at Hogwarts might give you a good go, but their attention spans are too short to do you any serious amount of damage. You build a tolerance for it."

"You certainly didn't seem to have much tolerance for it last week," Hermione commented wryly. "Or was that someone else griping about the trials of their life?"

"That was Zhen, remember?"

"Hey," Zhen cried, with a laugh. "I seem to recall you griping right along with me, Mr Potter."

Harry pulled his face into a mask of stoic arrogance.

"I've no idea to what you could be referring," he said in his best imitation of Malfoy's haughty drawl. "You must have mistaken me for someone else."

"I think not," said Hermione, elbowing him in the ribs. Harry grinned. "Didn't we intrude upon Zhen and her friends for a reason, Harry?"

Zhen blinked at him curiously.

"I found this in my trunk this morning," Harry explained, setting the leather bound book on the table beside a pitcher of orange juice. "It's from your granddad. He stuck a letter in it saying I ought to read it. I wondered if you might know why?" Harry took another bite of eggs, cramming a piece of toast in after it as he waited for Zhen to answer. He managed another bite before he glanced at Zhen. He paused. "Zhen, are you okay?"

The small girl beside him looked as transparent as Headless Nick, her eyes fixed on the symbol on the cover of the book.

"Zhen, are you all right," asked Cam. "You look like your breakfast is about to revisit." When Zhen still didn't respond Cam took her by the shoulders and shook her gently. "Zhen!"

"You know, that's really not going to help her if she's about to be sick, Cam," the red-head sitting across from Harry pointed out. She reached across the table and squeezed Zhen's hand. "Zhen?"

Zhen jerked her hand back and looked up at the girl, clearly startled.

"What?"

"Harry asked if you knew anything about tha' book an' then you left us," the boy supplied helpfully. "I don' suppose you found the answer to the last of our herbology questions on your trip?"

Harry watched as Zhen shook her head slightly, setting her jaw as if steeling herself before she turned to face Harry with an unconvincing smile.

"Sorry, Harry. I was trying to think. I know I've seen that book before, but I can't think of where." Harry couldn't be certain, but he'd have bet his pocket money she was lying. The thing was he couldn't imagine why. Nor could he imagine, even if she did recognize the book, why it would upset her so much. "I know I've never read it, so I can't tell you why granddad might have given it to you. Maybe it has something to do with that Chinese quidditch captain you and he were talking about in Diagon."

Harry wasn't convinced, but he couldn't justify pressing after the book had shaken the younger girl so badly. He frowned. He really didn't like it when she wasn't smiling. He liked it even less when he was the reason she wasn't smiling. It went against every Gryffindor bone in his body, but Harry found himself shrugging and reapplying himself to his plate.

"It's not a big deal," Harry assured her, pleased when his words seemed to dissolve some of the tension in her shoulders and bring a bit of color back to her cheeks. "I was just curious is all. Maybe I'll figure it out after I start reading it."

Zhen nodded.

"Maybe."

"Zhen, I still don't understand this paragraph of our potions reading," said the third girl, flipping her braided pigtails over her back and pushing the first year text across the table as if Harry's question had never been asked. "What does this mean?"

Zhen glanced at the text and then eagerly started to explain. Harry bit off a corner of his toast and glanced at Hermione. It was clear that she didn't believe Zhen either. Surely a person couldn't be that frightened of something they didn't recognize. Although, Harry reasoned, he'd always been terrified of fireworks, a fear he hadn't understood until he started remembering the green flashes of the killing curse from the night Voldemort killed his parents. Could Zhen somehow be connected to the magic Hayward Parish was warning him about and not even be aware of it? Had she seen something when she was very little, a memory she'd forgotten except for the terror Harry could still see in her eyes?

He'd hoped that speaking to Zhen might ease his confusion, but as he cleared his plate he felt more confused than ever. And worried. If Zhen was connected to this magic and Voldemort found out, would he come after her too? Would he send Sirius Black?

Harry glanced at Zhen as she continued to explain potions to the girl Harry now knew was named Tess. Anytime he'd seen her or thought of her before today Zhen had seemed so vibrant, so young. Now, studying her carefully, she seemed a lot older than the other first years, like she knew things they didn't. Not things about potions, darker things, like the things Harry knew that always made him feel older than his own yearmates. Things like death, fear, and destiny. The realization made him sad and he felt a sudden urge to pull her close, to hold her, an urge which only confused Harry further.

* * *

Unknown to Harry, across the hall at the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy was equally confused by the Gryffindor girl. However, rather than worrying him, Draco's confusion made him angry.

"I take it your father hasn't changed his mind?" Draco sent Blaise Zabini a withering glare. In spite of the fact that he spent most of his time with Crabbe and Goyle, he was actually a lot closer to Blaise, which was probably the reason Blaise had noticed his fury while Crabbe and Goyle were still shovelling food into their mouths blissfully unaware. "I'm only asking because if you hold any tighter to that parchment it's going to disintegrate."

Draco looked down at his hands, surprised to see them fisted around the edges of his father's letter. He balled the parchment up and shoved it into the depths of his school bag, as if that might make it easier to disregard its contents. For a moment he managed dignified silence. Maybe it was closer to ten seconds.

"I don't _get it_," he seethed. "I don't understand why he insists that I make amends with that little twit! She's a first year and a Gryffindor at that. What makes her so damn important?"

Blaise, unfazed by Draco's temper, shrugged indifferently.

"How should I know? I wouldn't even know who she was if you hadn't been whinging about her for the past week."

"I mean, her grandparents have a lot of political influence in certain circles and they're both from old families, but that's true of a lot of students," Draco said, continuing as if Blaise hadn't spoken. "If I let family heritage decide my associations I'd be getting chummy with Weasley." Draco shuddered at the thought. "Father said she's a pureblood, but I've never heard of the Li family. Have you?"

Blaise shook his head.

"Her mother's probably a muggleborn then, making Zhen nothing but a filthy halfblood." Draco moaned, massaging his temples. "I just don't get it."

"Whether you get it or not, it's pretty clear your dad's not going to be changing his mind any time soon. Nor your mum either. You've gotten over a dozen letters since you wrote to your dad and told him about your run in with Li. They all say the same thing." Blaise popped a grape in his mouth, slouching against the table with his head propped up on his fist. "I say you just need to buck up and do it."

"Like hell I will," Draco thundered, gaining several curious looks from nearby Slytherins. He took a deep breath. "Malfoys do not apologize."

"Well apparently your dad missed that notice during orientation." Draco sneered at his friend's nonchalance. "You know, maybe it's not about the girl at all."

"What do you mean it's not about the girl," Draco snapped exasperatedly. "She's the one he wants me to apologize to. She's the one he wants me to befriend. How can it not be about the girl?"

"Well, she's friends with Potter isn't she," said Blaise, nodding across the hall. "Maybe your dad sees her as a way to get to him."

Draco turned in his seat to look at the Gryffindor table. Potter was getting to his feet, his hand was on the Li girl's shoulder, his expression one of concern. Zhen had known Harry before she'd come to Hogwarts, but they didn't seem to spend much time together. It wasn't the first time he'd seen the two sitting together for a meal, but it hadn't been a daily occurrence. Even counting for the time they might spend together in their common room it hardly seemed plausible that she was close enough to Potter to warrant his father's attention. He shook his head.

"No, I don't see it," he decided. "If Father wanted me to get close to Potter, Granger or Weasley would be a better bet. I don't think I've seen him without one or the other of them since start of term."

"True, but you've already got a bad history with them. You don't with Zhen." Blaise smirked. "Or at least you didn't." Draco rolled his eyes. "I don't know. Maybe your dad just thought you'd have a better chance with someone who didn't already hate your guts."

"I suppose it's possible."

"Whatever the reason, he seems pretty adamant about you apologizing."

Draco winced. Adamant was putting it mildly. His father's language in his most recent letter was so strong it was a miracle the parchment couldn't stand on its own. Clearly his mother hadn't been privy to that one, not that she would have been any gentler. She just went about things in a more Slytherin way.

Heaving an enormous sigh, Draco drew himself up and got to his feet. Blaise looked up at him, startled.

"You're going to do it now?"

Draco nodded.

"No time like the present, I suppose." He turned to Goyle. "Bring my bag with you when you come to class, would you?"

The larger boy nodded, his face fixed in its usual gormless expression as if he was confused by the mere fact Draco had spoken to him.

"Good luck," Blaise called after him.

Draco didn't reply. Instead he strode with a confidence and dignity only nobility can impart to where Zhen was seated with a few of her housemates. The only boy in the group glared at Draco as he approached and as a reflex he returned the gesture until he realized glaring did little to project an apologetic demeanor. Breathing deeply through his nose he schooled his features to a more neutral expression and cleared his throat. Zhen and the other girl on her side of the table turned.

"I wondered if I might have a moment of your time, Miss Li. I'd like to speak to you," he managed, barely able to keep his teeth from clenching as his eyes flicked to the girl's companions. "Privately."

"No way," bellowed the girl to Zhen's right as the boy across the table stood wordlessly. "Not happening."

"Cam, it's ok," Zhen soothed, looking to the boy as she got to her feet. "Really."

The whispers that had started as Draco made his dignified trek across the hall to the Gryffindor table swelled as Zhen stood and Draco reflexively offered her his hand as she made to step over the bench. The gesture startled them both and Zhen paused for a moment, glancing up at his face as if she half expected him to pull her down. Draco wasn't sure what she saw in his expression that convinced her otherwise, but she smiled and accepted his hand with an easy grace that suggested to Draco she had been raised in a noble house whether she belonged there or not. She released his hand and bent to pick up her rucksack, which Draco quickly took from her.

"Perhaps the Entrance Hall would suffice?"

Zhen nodded.

"Of course." The young Gryffindor looked back at her friends. "I'll meet you at the entrance to the dungeons, okay?"

Her four housemates offered quiet affirmations, their eyes trailing after her as Draco led her back toward his own table and out the door to the Entrance Hall. He was pleased to find the hall mostly empty, although the few students passing through spared a concerned glance for the tiny Gryffindor in the company of the Slytherin prince. However, Zhen seemed completely undisturbed by the situation. Draco wasn't sure if it was genuine bravery or simple stupidity.

"I have been meaning to talk to you since our arrival." Draco paused, struggling to say what he knew ought to be said. He found the idea of uttering those two words to a Gryffindor absolutely repulsive, so he settled for a very Slytherin compromise. "I regret my words and my actions that day. As a pureblood I am meant to be above such pettiness and I would like you to give me a chance to prove that I can be."

Of all the reactions Draco might have anticipated, Zhen's laughter was not one of them. His ears and neck burned with the heat of his barely controlled temper. Regardless of his father's plans, he would not be made a fool of by anyone. He reached for his wand, stunned when Zhen grabbed his hand.

"Don't be so prickly," she commanded, still giggling as Draco drew back his hand. "I'm not laughing at your apology, well I am, but not the fact that you made it. It's just, that is the most pureblood apology I've ever heard." Draco's eyes narrowed. Zhen rolled her eyes. "You're making apologizing so much harder than it needs to be. Two words are all it takes. I'll show you." Draco eyed the girl curiously as she took a step back and bowed at the waist. "Draco, I accept your apology and I'm sorry too. I said things I shouldn't have based on things I'd been told about you. That was wrong and I would very much like it if we could be friends."

Draco's mouth hung open as Zhen straightened and smiled at him sweetly. He could hear his mother's reprimand about proper deportment and swallowing a fly, but he couldn't seem to get his jaw to work. He might be conceited, but objectively even he could admit that he'd been a right git to Zhen, if not on the train then the next day in the Great Hall. What in Merlin's name was she apologizing for? But her apology wasn't what confounded him most.

"Y-you want to be friends," he stammered. Zhen nodded. "But we're in different houses. I hate Harry Potter!"

"Just because you and Harry don't like each other doesn't mean that I can't like you both. And I'm not afraid of being friends with a snake if you can stomach being friends with a lion."

Draco wasn't sure what to say. The girl was offering him exactly what his father wanted and gaining his father's approval was undeniably beneficial for him. He just couldn't shake the feeling that somehow he'd be leading the girl on and for the first time in his memory the idea of deceiving someone bothered him. Just what kind of naive Hufflepuff went around asking people to be their friends? It was absurd!

Yet, Draco felt an odd twinge. He'd never had someone ask to be his friend before. He'd never really made a friend before. Blaise, Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy, Theo – they'd grown up together. Their parents had gone to all the same parties and dragged their children with them. They'd never made a conscious choice to become friends. They simply always had been, although it was something that was never said aloud. It was a very unSlytherin idea, making friends, but Draco was surprised to find it appealed to him.

"I suppose we could try," he said coolly and Zhen's smile widened. Draco scowled. "I swear, the first time you ask me to start sharing my feelings or some other Gryffindorish nonsense, I'm through."

"I would expect nothing less, Draco."

Draco nodded, spotting Zhen's friends as they left the Great Hall.

"Your friends are here. You should probably get to class. Professor Snape doesn't tolerate tardiness."

"Professor Snape doesn't tolerate anything," Zhen quipped and Draco was startled by the laugh that passed his lips, so much so that he nearly choked on it. Derisive snickering, malicious chortling and condescending sneers were perfectly acceptable, but genuine laughter? Most definitely not. "See you later, Draco."

Draco returned the little Gryffindor's wave as she ran to join her friends. He felt as if he'd been suffused with cold water and had the strangest sense that in trying to trick Zhen, she'd managed to trick him. The funniest thing was he wasn't sure what the trick was and he wasn't sure he minded.

* * *

"But Granddad had to know when he gave that book to Harry that it explains everything about the Li Clan and the Clow Cards. Clow Reed's seal is on the front cover! It was only written a couple of years ago so it even mentions Aunt Yelan and Xiao Lang by name. Harry may not be particularly motivated in his studies, but he's not stupid Kero. He's going to figure out that I've got the Clow Cards."

Zhen angled the warped handle of her school broom, mindlessly moving up and down, left to right as she'd been instructed by Madam Hooch. Her newfound friendship with Draco, although admittedly surprising, was the last thing on her mind. Only three other students had demonstrated enough skill on a broom that Madam Hooch was letting them fly about on the spot a few feet above their classmates and it was the first chance she'd had to talk with Kero about the book Harry had shown her at breakfast. She'd lied when she told him she'd never read it. It had been part of her schooling last year to know it by heart. Aunt Yelan had said that knowing one's history was the key to directing one's future. Right now all Zhen was concerned with was directing Harry's book to the fireplace.

"I agree with you, Zhen," Kero answered quietly from the inner pocket of her robe. Zhen glanced down at him and leaned slightly to the left as her broom abruptly tilted right for no apparent reason. "Your grandfather had to know what was in that book and have been well aware of how dangerous giving it to this Harry kid might be. What I want to know is why he thought risking the clan's fury and your secret was worth it."

"Well, Harry is the boy-who-lived," Zhen pointed out with a shrug, sneaking a glance at Madam Hooch before creeping a few inches higher. "A lot of people think he's very powerful. They say that not even Dumbledore could have defeated Voldemort when he was at the height of his power and Harry did it before his second birthday."

Kero shook his head.

"I'm not buying it," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "There's no way a kid is powerful enough to kill anybody before their second birthday. Besides, it's not like he used his magic to kill this guy. The spell rebounded."

"True, but there's no shield that the killing curse can't penetrate."

"I bet there's one," Kero said with a smug grin. "Nothing but Clow Reed's magic can get though the Shield card or mine and Yue's shields."

"I'm not even going to go there. Just promise me you won't go out and test that theory, okay? I'd like to have both of my guardians when I'm finished capturing the cards."

"All right," Kero agreed begrudgingly. "I guess it would really suck to be stuck with just Yue. Sakura loosened him up a little, but he still has no sense of humour."

Zhen rolled her eyes and let her broom drop several feet. With practiced ease she stopped it a few inches before her feet hit the ground and then shot into the air, her pigtails streaming behind her. She'd missed flying the last few months. She loved feeling the wind in her hair and everything smelled so fresh when you were up high enough that people started to look small.

"That's high enough, Miss Li!"

With a sigh Zhen halted her broom's rapid ascent and contented herself with gliding from side to side. What she really wanted was to fly her Firebolt from one end of the quidditch pitch to the other and then shoot up over the hoops to see just how high it could go. Her head snapped forward as the broom in her hands bucked again. Professor McGonagall had been right. The school brooms did have a mind of their own. She stopped midair, looking down at the small lion in her pocket, swinging her legs back and forth.

"So what should I do about the book, Kero?"

Her guardian's brow was creased, his expression thoughtful.

"I think for now you should just leave it." Zhen opened her mouth to protest and with a spark of magic Kero silenced her. Zhen scowled. "No, I don't want you getting in the middle of whatever it is that your grandfather's doing. I think there's something bigger at work here than just you and the cards or Harry and your granddad. I can't believe that your grandfather would put you in danger for any reason so I have to assume that he's seeing something I'm not and it's bugging me."

Zhen tried to talk again and finding the spell still in place, reached into her pocket and rapped on her guardian's head.

"Oops, sorry," he said bashfully, removing the spell with a wave of his paw. "I forgot."

"Do you think I should tell Mum and Xiao Lang?"

Kero paused, tapping his paw thoughtfully against his chin.

"Yes, I think you should," he said finally. "As much as I respect your granddad, I don't like working blind. I can't protect you if I don't know what I'm protecting you from. Maybe your Mum and Xiao Lang can get it out of him."

Zhen nodded.

"Legs in your rests, Miss Li!"

Zhen complied with her teacher's instruction and tilting the broom handle slightly, twirled in a gentle circle.

"I'll write them a letter tonight," she said as Madam Hooch began waving her down. "I need to...

Zhen trailed off, instinctively turning her broom toward the glimmer of Clow Reed's magic. She was just about to ask Kero if he'd felt it too when she felt a second flicker in almost the opposite direction.

"Kero, it feels like the card is in two different places," she whispered, already lowering her broom, eager now to get off so she could locate the Clow Card. "How do I know which way is the right way?"

"They both are," Kero murmured, closing his eyes as he focused. "There are two cards."

"Two," Zhen hissed, hovering a few feet above her classmates' heads to prevent them from overhearing her. "How am I supposed to catch two of them before my next class? I'll barely have time to get to them both, let alone seal them, especially if they decide to cause trouble."

"I don't think you'll have to worry about getting to them," Kero warned gravely and Zhen felt a flutter of panic somewhere beneath her ribs. "They're headed straight for us."

"Miss Li, class is over," Madam Hooch scolded sternly, wagging her finger at Zhen as if she were an ill-behaved toddler. "If you don't come down in the next thirty seconds you'll be spending this evening in detention with me waxing broom handles. Your clear talent for flying does not –

A shrill avian screech rent the air and Zhen clamped her hands over her ears. Below her on the pitch Madam Hooch was still hollering at her, but her expression was one of concern rather than aggravation as she frantically tried to wave Zhen down. Zhen attempted to comply, but just as she angled her broom handle toward the ground an enormous wing swept inches above her head. Its back draft caught her broom and sent her hurtling handle over bristles toward the stands as the giant bird embodying the _Fly_ card soared across the pitch.

She could hear the terrified shouts of her classmates and caught flashes of their black robes against the green pitch as she struggled to right her broom. Pulling with all her might she narrowly escaped a head-on collision with the Hufflepuff bleachers. She was upside down, but at least she'd managed to stop.

Heart snug against her tonsils Zhen surveyed the pitch, not bothering to right herself as her pigtails dangled and the blood rushed to her head. Being upside down didn't seem all that important. Madam Hooch had begun firing spells at the gargantuan bird, her wild hair made wilder by the squall that seemed to encase it. The wind was like a shield, sending every spell Madam Hooch fired awry. The other students were huddled together beneath the Ravenclaw bleachers, too busy dodging rebounding spells and stray brooms to get any further away. The wind surrounding the _Fly_ was churning faster, pulling more brooms, grass, and a few of the students' rucksacks up off the ground. With a deafening cry the _Fly_ pumped its wings, the resulting thrust of wind demolishing the Ravenclaw stands and scattering her classmates.

"What do I do Kero," Zhen cried as she righted her broom, trying to keep the wind from baffling her into the bleachers at her back. "Someone's going to get hurt if I don't do something, but I can't use the cards with all of these people here."

"It's not after the kids," Kero shouted above the wind, pointing to the sky where the Ravenclaw bleachers had once stood. "It's only trying to protect itself from them!"

Zhen's stomach clenched at the sight of decaying black robes fluttering in the breeze. She shivered, the inhuman hissing of the dementors carrying across the field as they hemmed the _Fly_ in, unaffected by the wind its magic had conjured. The giant bird keened in agony, batting wildly at the dark spectres as they siphoned off its magic. Zhen watched, her fear of the dementors warring with her need to protect the Clow Cards as Madam Hooch used the bird's distraction to herd the other students off the pitch, her back never turned to Azkaban's guards.

"I have to do something," Zhen murmured, her hand moving automatically to the small winged key that hung from a golden chain around her neck. "I have to help the _Fly_."

"It's too dangerous, Zhen," Kero countered, hopping onto her broom handle. "Those dementors are too strong for you and without my true form, I can't protect you. Let your professors handle this."

Zhen shook her head as the _Fly_ shrieked again, her heart twisting in her chest as it tried vainly to push the dementors away.

"No, Kero. I have to help it." Zhen gripped the handle of her broom more tightly and leaned low over the mottled wood. "Hold on."

If Kero made any further protests Zhen didn't hear them as she shot off across the pitch. She breathed deeply through her nose, trying to quell the nausea the dementors' presence induced. The school's broom pitched beneath her and her palms slipped, slick with a chilling sweat. Breathing was becoming painful and she felt the familiar heaviness as her magic was once again overwhelmed by the dementors' darkness. She tightened her hold on the key, its edges digging painfully into her palm as she struggled against the shadows trying to draw her in. If she could just make it a little bit further.

"Expecto Patronum!"

Madam Hooch's voice sounded distant and Zhen whirled as the woman shot off a spell that looked at first like nothing but a strand of light, an arrow. Yet, as it soared through the air the arrow blossomed and took the shape of an eagle. Its silver light cast an almost physical warmth, throwing off the deadly chill of the dementors and Zhen took a deep breath, more sure of her seat on her broom as the eagle gave a silent cry and launched itself at the dementors. Zhen was right behind it.

The dementors shrank from the eagle's silver light, the curtain of their rotting robes parting so that Zhen could angle through them to the _Fly_. Inside the circle several of the dementors were still too far away to feel the effects of the eagle's light. They tugged mercilessly at the _Fly_'s wings, trying to bring it down. Taking a deep breath, Zhen dove at one, wrenching her broom handle sharply so the back end of her broom stuck the dementor and sent it sailing into the Gryffindor stands.

As if it understood her plan, the eagle dive-bombed another of the dementors, clearing the way for Zhen to send a second sailing across the pitch. The eagle's light seemed to have revived the _Fly_ as well and with a piercing shriek it heaved its powerful wings and sent a dozen dementors wheeling across the sky. Having broken a large hole in the dementors' defenses the _Fly_ took off across the pitch and headed for Madam Hooch. Zhen flew just above its left wing, happy to leave the dementors to the eagle. She hadn't passed out this time, but she could feel their darkness coiling around her magic. The sensation was like walking on ice – sharp and numb at the same time.

Beneath her the _Fly_ cooed wearily and Zhen began looking for somewhere she could hide to seal it. Instead, she saw a tiny fox-like creature with rabbit ears tear onto the pitch behind Madam Hooch, a horde of dementors gliding just behind it. Madam Hooch's expression tightened as they circled her, apparently more interested in her magic than that of the tiny creature that had led them here. The light at the end of her wand sputtered and Zhen felt the warmth of the eagle as it soared past her plunging toward her professor. The dementors hissed as it circled the woman, a few drifting away toward the periwinkle fox that was trembling beneath Slytherin's bleachers.

"Miss Li, get away from here, now!" Madam Hooch was staring at Zhen, her eyes pleading with her as the eagle circling her flickered. "I cannot hold them for much longer. There are too many."

"No kidding," Kero grumbled as he climbed back onto Zhen's broom handle. "And you don't listen any better than Sakura."

"I'm going to take that as a compliment," Zhen informed her guardian wearily. "Usually when Sakura didn't listen it was because she was trying to protect one of us."

"It wasn't meant as a compliment."

Kero continued to grouse as beneath her the _Fly_ screeched irritably. Zhen clung to her broom as the bird swooped down, diving at the dementors circling the little fox. She blinked and felt her jaw drop.

"Kero, that's the _Dash_, isn't it?" Kero paused mid-grumble and looked at the little creature as the _Fly _used its wing to force the dementors away from it. He nodded. "But it doesn't have to be sealed to lend me its powers, right?"

"Well no, but – Kero's eyes widened comically. "You're genius, Zhen!"

Zhen managed a weak smile.

"_That_ was most definitely a compliment."

She heard Kero chuckle as she ignored Madam Hooch's cries again and dove at the knot of creatures at the base of the Slytherin stands. Without the eagle to clear the way for her Zhen felt the magic of the dementors begin to overwhelm her again. Her teeth chattered and her skin crawled, but she kept her eyes focused on the periwinkle fox knowing it was the only way she was going to get out of this unscathed. Gritting her teeth she wrenched her broom again and knocked one of the dementors out of the way so she could land.

The _Dash _needed no urging and leapt into her arms the moment her feet hit the sod. Zhen didn't waste any time. Her vision was already fading and the tiny creature in her arms felt impossibly heavy as she guided her broom back up into the sky. With a hiss of frustration the dementors followed. Zhen's stomach lurched as she levelled off and she saw a legion of the wretched creatures headed straight for her. She glanced over her left shoulder, her heart clenching when she saw Madam Hooch on her knees, the dementors strangling the eagle's beautiful light until nothing was left but a shadow.

Zhen swallowed hard and looked down at the _Dash_.

"I know you're scared, but I need your help," she said gently. The _Dash_ tilted its head curiously at her. "I'm going to do everything I can to keep those things from getting you, but if you lend me your speed we'll both have a better chance."

The _Dash_ purred and rubbed against Zhen's stomach affectionately, gleaming with violet light. Zhen sighed as she felt its magic encompass her and smiled grimly at the dementors.

"Let's see you catch me now," she taunted as she tapped into the _Dash_'s power, shooting across the pitch like a muggle rocket. "Hold on, Kero!"

Unable to match the _Dash_'s speed the dementors behind her had fallen back, but she still had to get through the dozen in front of her. Tightening her arm around the _Dash _she tried to remember everything Sakura had ever taught her about flying. She took a deep breath as the first dementor came within arm's length of her and veered to the left, having to wrench instantly to the right to avoid a second. Her eyes scanned the skies desperately for a way out, but for every dementor she avoided another took its place. And more were coming.

She continued to weave in and out, fighting more for every turn as the darkness coiling around her magic drew tighter and tighter. She caught a glimpse of Madam Hooch as the woman raised her wand and performed the spell that had summoned the eagle again, moaning when a mere wisp of remembered light drifted weakly from the tip of her wand. Another dementor made a grab for her and Zhen lay lower against her broom. She was so tired, so cold.

She hadn't even realized her eyes had closed until they snapped open at the sound of the _Fly_ screeching in her ear. The giant bird had shot up beside her and with a surge of its powerful wings, sent a half a dozen dementors careening into Hufflepuff's bleachers. Using the last of her strength Zhen angled her broom through the hole the _Fly_ had created and sped toward Madam Hooch. Her professor had managed to summon the eagle again, but its light was dim, barely enough to keep the dementors at bay as they grabbed at her professor.

Zhen gripped her broom and swung it hard, sending one of them flying away from her professor. Again and again and again, but for every one she managed to hit three more seemed to take its place. The eagle flickered and Zhen felt her heart drop. There were too many to outrun now, even with the _Dash_. They seemed to be coming from every direction. She veered left trying to get off of the pitch and choked. She looked over her shoulder and saw the scabbed hand of a dementor latched onto the collar of her robes. Tears stung her eyes. She couldn't move anymore. Her body felt too heavy. They were everywhere. They were pulling her down.

Beneath her Madam Hooch was nearly prostrate, but her expression was determined as she swung her wand in Zhen's direction. The eagle followed and the grasping, tugging hands relented as the eagle circled her, its weak light enough to make the dementors wary. Hidden in her robes Kero was feeding her his magic, the heat of the sun in his touch, cutting through the dementors' chill and keeping her awake.

The _Dash_ whimpered and Zhen glanced at the tiny creature. The _Fly_ was still behind her, whirling in circles to ward off the swarm of dementors that had descended on it after it helped Zhen escape. Her vision blurred and she felt the heat of tears on her cheeks as the eagle flickered and then disappeared. She could feel the dementors approaching again and with the last of her strength she wrenched her broom up into a straight climb, leaving them writhing beneath her. Someone was shouting at her, but she didn't have the strength to look down.

Her eyes slid closed and her broom slowed as she heard a familiar voice shout,

"Expecto Patronum!"

She felt a brief flash of warmth and then everything went black.

* * *

"I swear sometimes he tries to make us fail," moaned Ron as they made their way out of the dungeons to the Great Hall. "Mum's going to kill me for sure if I don't bring up my Potions mark this year."

Harry nodded dismally in agreement. Potions class had been as successful as usual. He and Ron had produced a potion that even Harry knew was horrendous. Snape had been less than pleased to say the least. He'd vanished the potion before they could even finish and given them both their well-deserved zeroes. Harry couldn't understand it. He really did try to do well in potions. It had been the class he'd most been looking forward to before his arrival at Hogwarts.

Potion-making was just so complex and there were so many elements that most of the students seemed innately aware of that he somehow wasn't. Snape stalking back and forth behind him and belittling him at every turn certainly didn't help, but Harry knew it was more than that and it frustrated him to no end. Were some wizards just born unable to brew even the most basic of potions? Snape seemed to think so in Harry's case at least, but given that it was a required class for the first few years at Hogwarts it seemed unlikely. He was just about to ask Hermione when Ron spoke again, his morose countenance having been replaced with curiosity.

"What's going on up there?"

Hermione stood on her toes beside them, straining to see over the heads and shoulders of their classmates who stood crammed together at the mouth of the dungeon corridor.

"I can't tell. Do you think something has happened?"

"Can't have," Ron declared, smirking. "Harry wasn't there."

"Neville, what's happened," Hermione asked, ignoring Ron and Harry as they scuffled good-naturedly behind her. "Why can't we get into the hall?"

Neville turned back to answer and Harry froze, his glasses askew as Ron tried to get him in a headlock. He didn't need to see clearly to see that Neville's round face was white as milk and for the first time Harry registered the sound of several people crying beneath the susurrus of voices.

"It's the dementors." Harry's stomach dropped down somewhere around his ankles and he shrugged Ron off forcefully. "A couple of creatures must have got out of the Forbidden Forest. The dementors chased them onto the pitch where the first years were having their flying lesson."

"Bad luck," said Ron sounding genuinely concerned as he solemnly shoved his hands in his pockets. "Pomfrey must be in a right state."

Neville said something in reply, but Harry didn't hear what it was as he stared at Hermione. Her brown eyes were wide and he knew without having said anything that she was thinking what he was. _That's Zhen's class._

Suddenly Harry found himself driving through his classmates, shoving Gryffindors and Slytherins alike aside without apology as he struggled to break through to the front of the crowd. He sensed Hermione right behind him as he neared the mouth of the corridor and spotted a huddle of tear-stained faces.

"Watch it Potter," Pansy Parkinson cried elbowing Harry viciously so that he fell to his knees as he broke free of the crowd. "You're as bad as Weasley when it comes to getting lunch on time. Can't you see these kids are upset?"

Harry didn't bother to reply. He was too busy desperately scanning the terrified faces of the Gryffindor and Slytherin first years to care. Had he really been that small and looked so young two years ago? He felt someone pulling him to his feet and looked back to find Hermione pointing to the stairs.

"Aren't those the girls Zhen was sitting with at breakfast?"

Harry followed her gaze and nodded, not having to look back to know that Hermione was still with him as he jogged over to them.

"Cam!"

Harry found himself unexpectedly on the floor again having been knocked onto his backside when a tall blonde boy wearing a Hufflepuff tie thrust past him. The little Gryffindor girl Cam sobbed and ran at the older boy, all signs of the bravery that had made her stand up to the Slytherin boys on her first day gone. Her braid was undone, her face was scratched and she cradled her left arm gingerly as she buried her face in the Hufflepuff boy's shoulder.

"Nate, th-the d-d-d-emen-tors, th-th-they, she's, h-h-h-her br-br-br-oom, and then-

"Shhh, Cam," soothed the older boy as Harry let Hermione pull him to his feet again. "Take a deep breath. You're okay. Everyone's all right. The dementors can't come inside the castle."

Cam shook her head and pushed back from the older boy, her dark eyes wide with terror.

"N-n-n-no they're n-not," she managed. The older boy frowned. Cam mimicked the expression, closing her mouth firmly and drawing a deep breath in through her nose. "Everyone is not okay," she stated firmly, sniffing loudly as tears flooded her eyes again.

Harry stepped forward then. He'd had enough time on his feet to scan the faces of the first years he recognized vaguely as belonging to his house. There was one face he didn't see.

"Cam," he said quietly as Hermione stood beside him, her eyes flicking from one frightened face to another. "Where is Zhen?"

Tears spilled onto the younger girl's cheeks as she held Harry's gaze. Her knees buckled and she wilted against the Hufflepuff boy, her anguished cries tearing open a strange, painful place in Harry's chest.

"Sh-she's still out there," she howled.

The corners of the older boy's mouth pinched slightly.

"Your friend is still out there, Cam?"

The little Gryffindor nodded.

"Don't, Harry."

Harry didn't look at Hermione. His eyes were fixed on the little knot of Zhen's friends, their arms wrapped tightly around one another as they wept. Even the boys, Sully, and another he didn't recognize had red-rimmed eyes and wet cheeks.

"Harry."

This time Harry turned.

"What if it was me, Hermione, or Ron? Would you just leave us?"

Hermione bit her lip, her eyes darting from Harry, to Cam, to the entrance and back.

"Madam Hooch or one of the professors," she began weakly.

"The professors aren't here, Hermione."

Hermione looked around the Entrance Hall again as if one of them might have appeared in the last five seconds.

"You passed out when you saw that dementor on the train, Harry. You won't be able to stop them by yourself."

"He won't be by himself." Harry turned as the Hufflepuff boy stood, guiding Cam gently to the steps where Finley and Tess wrapped their arms around her. "Zhen is my sister's friend. I'll do what I can to make sure she's safe." Harry nodded as the boy stuck out his hand. "Name's Nate, Harry. Not sure if you recognize me, but I'm one of the beaters for Hufflepuff and given our mutual skill on a broom, I say we fly in, get the little one, and get out."

"Sounds like a perfect plan if I ever heard one, don't you agree George?"

"I do indeed, brother. I do indeed." Harry jumped, startled when Fred laid his arm across Harry's shoulders. "Didn't think we'd let you get into more trouble and cause our mother more grey hairs without us, did you Harry?"

"Yeah, we're starting to think you're trying to outdo us," said George as he joined them. "We've worked hard for years to earn our place as the masters of mayhem in our family. Can't have you come along and steal it away from us."

"Besides, it's not fair for Nate to get extra flying time," Fred quipped with a grin that couldn't conceal the seriousness in his brown eyes. "Can't let Hufflepuff get an edge on us before we even have the first match."

Harry found he couldn't muster the twins' bravado, but he appreciated theirs.

"What about me? I'm coming too!"

Harry turned as Ron finally managed to squeeze his way through the crowd at the mouth of the dungeon corridor giving Theodore Nott a more violent shove than was perhaps strictly necessary when the skinny Slytherin boy tried to block his way. Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Fred beat him to it.

"Sorry little brother, you're not stepping a toe outside this castle."

Ron glowered at his older brothers, nearly matching them in height in spite of their difference in ages.

"You're going to let Harry go, but not me? How's that fair?"

"We never said it was fair, Ron," said George, more sympathetic to his younger brother's distemper than his twin who was simply glaring at Ron menacingly. "But for all Harry's a part of our family, he's not Mum's baby boy. Us letting him go might send Mum into a tailspin, give her a few grey hairs, and earn us a howler, but it wouldn't give her some sort of cardiac trauma like you going out there would."

"Yeah, well she'd probably be even more upset if she knew I let something happen to Harry."

"Look, you try and leave this castle and I'll petrify you. End of story," Fred stated with a startling degree of finality and an uncharacteristically stern expression.

"That's against school rules," Ron blustered, his red face and clenched jaw suggesting to Harry that he knew he was fighting a losing battle as Fred scoffed.

"I think everyone in this castle knows how we feel about school rules, Ronniekins."

Ron's face darkened a shade and he looked to Harry who, as much as he wanted to side with his best friend, didn't dare disagree with the twins for fear they might forbid him from going as well. Ron's frown deepened and he turned his head away from Harry mutinously. Harry ran his hand through his hair sighing. Ron wouldn't probably speak to him for a week now.

"Oh Ron, don't be such a baby," Hermione scolded, taking Ron by the arm and dragging him toward the stairs. "Come on."

"Where are we going," Ron asked, too bewildered by their friend's abrupt change of course to resist.

"To find Professor McGonagall," Hermione snapped, levelling Ron with a glare that – in Harry's opinion – would have made Voldemort back down. The redhead gulped and nodded as Hermione turned back and pointed at Harry. "You get her and then you come straight back, do you hear me Harry Potter?"

Harry nodded and tore off toward the doors, a raw pain in his chest and a quiver in his fingers at the thought of facing the dementors. Neither stopped him from pushing the castle doors open wide and pelting across the grounds toward the pitch. If he'd had the presence of mind to do so Harry might have marvelled at the fact that he was able to keep pace with three boys at least a foot taller than him. In truth he had no memory of the run across the grounds and no sense of the exhaustion he should have felt. He later remembered nothing from the time he left the castle until Nate grabbed hold of his arm just off the pitch.

"Wait, Harry." George and Fred were stopped beside him, their eyes fixed on the sky, their freckles vivid against their ashen skin. Nate followed their gaze. His voice when he spoke again was barely above a whisper. "Merlin, I never imagined there would be so many."

Harry looked up. The bright sky had nearly been blotted out by fierce black clouds that seemed a fitting match for the chill the dementors' presence cast into the air. Harry gasped. Those weren't clouds.

"Expecto Patronum!"

All four of them turned to the pitch. Madam Hooch was kneeling at its edge, her wand directing a mighty bird of light that seemed to make the dementors nervous. The bird flickered as the dementors' circle around Hogwarts' flying instructor tightened. They were everywhere.

"What is that thing," Harry heard himself ask.

"A patronus," Nate answered grimly. "It's a very powerful spell and the only thing that can stand up to a dementor. There's too many of them for just one to have much effect though."

As if to prove his statement, the eagle flickered again and dimmed. The dementors' hissing became more frenzied as they reached past the frail light of the patronus and grabbed Madam Hooch, pulling at her robes with so much force they nearly pulled her to her feet. Harry's professor struggled in their hold. He could remember how it felt to have their darkness so close, the weakness, the heartache, the cold. Harry closed his eyes, fighting back a wave of nausea.

"Look!"

Harry's eyes flew opened as Fred grabbed his shoulder, pointing to a small figure in the sky beyond Madam Hooch. Her pigtails were gone, her robes were torn, her face was pale, but her brown eyes were determined as she weaved with a speed he'd never have believed a school broom to be capable of through the sea of dementors toward their professor, a tiny cat-like creature with pale purple fur tucked against her chest. He could see how much effort it was taking for her to stay in the air. She looked so tired, but as she approached Madam Hooch she pulled hard on her broom handle, striking one of the dementors holding their professor with the back end of her broom. The dementor reeled, making a strange shrieking sound as Madam Hooch dropped back to the ground.

"Zhen!"

"We've got to get in the air," said Nate quietly. "Neither of them is going to last much longer."

Harry couldn't look away as the dementors swarmed Zhen, tugging and pulling at her. She continued using her broom to try and fend them off, Madam Hooch's eagle circling her protectively. The bird flickered and Harry jumped, tearing his gaze from the sky as a broom was put in his hands. George squeezed his hand briefly, curling Harry's numb fingers around the broom handle. Harry nodded, mounting his broom as the other three boys did the same.

"Harry, you and I will go for Zhen," Fred instructed. "George, you and Nate get Madam Hooch."

"Right," said George, looking to Nate who nodded. "Off we go."

All four of them kicked off, Harry trying to keep his broom steady as the ancient handle quavered beneath him.

"Try to stay as far back as you can until we're level with Zhen, Harry," Fred shouted over the wind. "Hopefully it will take the dementors longer to notice us."

Harry nodded grimly, angling his broom into a gentle climb while keeping a buffer of empty space between him and the dementors. When he was about a dozen feet up he stopped, gaping at the giant bird in the middle of the quidditch pitch shrieking angrily as it tried to repulse a horde of dementors with its wings. Harry had never seen a bird so large and he had to admit he could see why the dementors would perceive a creature of that size to be a threat.

"Harry!"

Fred pointed just above them and then shot off toward the mass of dementors surrounding Zhen. One of them had her by the collar and even from a distance Harry could see her struggling to breathe. The numbness the dementors' presence had instilled in him faded slightly as he frowned and shot off after Fred who was flying up just underneath Zhen. Eyes fixed on Zhen Harry soared through the dementors taking deep breaths to keep himself from passing out. Zhen had managed to break free, but her way was blocked in every direction, every direction but one. For a second, his heart stopped.

"No," Harry shouted. "Zhen don't!"

Harry wasn't sure if she didn't hear him or if she was just too frightened to listen. Either way she pulled her broom into a straight climb, evading the clutching hands of the dementors as she soared with impossible speed into the sky. Praying to Merlin that his broom wouldn't give out, Harry jerked his broom handle up and followed her, ignoring Fred who bellowed at him to stop. The cold of the dementors was worse now that Harry was right in the middle of them. Every other heartbeat he caught a glimpse of his mother and the killing curse that ended her life as her scream rang in his ears. He had to keep going though, he had to help Zhen.

He was gaining on her now. She seemed to have slowed, which pleased Harry until he saw that her eyes were closed, her small form draped lifelessly over her broom. Abruptly, the broom stopped and Harry watched, the scene slowing as if it were a part of some terrible nightmare as Zhen slid from her broom. Harry shot off after her, but the flashes of his darkest memory were becoming more frequent. He couldn't see, he could feel his hands slipping on his broom, and then a voice thundered across the pitch.

"Expecto Patronum!"

Harry felt a surge of warmth and the dementors surrounding him receded. Bewildered, he pushed himself into a sitting position on his broom and opened his eyes, expecting to see Madam Hooch's mighty bird. Instead a giant wolf of brilliant silver light ran at his side in the sky. He might have taken more time to admire it if he hadn't remembered why he was flying in the first place. Frantic, he searched the sky, seeing her small figure falling just ahead of him. She was falling too fast, he'd never reach her.

"ZHEN!"

* * *

"See you professor!"

Remus Lupin smiled at Oliver Wood as the Gryffindor waved, joining the other seventh years as they filed out of his classroom. The upper year defense classes had worried Remus when he agreed to teach at Hogwarts, but they'd become the classes he enjoyed teaching the most. Having left Britain to avoid the anti-werewolf legislation passed after the last war he had managed to earn his mastery and was perfectly qualified for the post. Unfortunately, his qualification did nothing to alter his own self-deprecating nature, a quality which had worsened without his friends to roughly remind him of his own worth.

Remus sighed and with a flick of his wand began rearranging the desks that had been shoved to the edges of the room for the seventh years' practical lesson. He loved being back at Hogwarts in so many ways, it was like coming home. But at the same time the familiar halls and rooms made it impossible to avoid the memories of those he'd lost. He bent and picked up a textbook that had been left, flipping open the cover, unsurprised to see Marcus Flint's name. _That boy would lose his head if it weren't attached, he's worse than Peter was that way._ Shaking his head with a rueful smile Remus set the book on his desk and made his way out of the classroom, chuckling when he had to pause in the doorway and wait for a pair of young Hufflepuffs to pass. Both were laughing, fighting good-naturedly over a parchment ball that had been charmed to look like a quaffle as they tore around a bend in the corridor.

Their laughter trailed behind them and Remus sighed contentedly. For all Hogwarts might make him lonesome for his friends, he wouldn't want to be anywhere else. The children were so vibrant, so eager, and so full of life. It made him feel younger than he had in years to be among them. They seemed to really like him and had instantly made him feel welcome, a sentiment he hadn't felt in years. Still, he couldn't help but wonder if they'd be as welcoming if they knew the secrets he was keeping. Remus frowned. Everything he thought about either reminded him of the friends he'd lost or the fact he was a werewolf. He'd thought that way for so long he wasn't sure how to avoid it, but he decided as a group of Ravenclaw fourth years greeted him with a smile that he was damn well going to try to find a way. He wouldn't let the spectres of his past haunt his present.

That decided Remus drew his frown into a smile and turned the corner toward the third floor staircase only to have the wind knocked out of him. It took him a moment to comprehend that something – or more likely in a school full of children, someone – had run into him with a great deal of force. He staggered back a step, coughing sharply as he struggled to regain his breath. Mentally preparing himself for an over-exuberant first year he was stunned to find Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley both looking like they had a banshee at their heels.

"Professor Lupin, I'm so sorry," said Hermione, her cheeks wet with tears. "But have you seen Professor McGonagall or the Headmaster? It's really very important."

"Hermione, what's wrong?"

The brunette teen shook her head, biting her lip as her eyes brimmed with tears.

"Harry's gone off to try and rescue Zhen," she managed, swiping at her face with the cuff of her robes. "He's going to get himself killed."

"Fred and George won't let anything happen to him," Ron assured the girl and Remus wondered if the pair was aware they were holding hands as the redhead drew closer to his friend. "They may goof off, but they can be bloody brilliant with spells when they need to be."

"Harry's gone to rescue Zhen from what," Remus rasped, his voice suddenly more hoarse than after the full moon.

"Dementors," Hermione burst, sobbing. "They chased some creatures onto the quidditch pitch during the first years' flying lesson. Most of them were able to make it into the castle, but Zhen and Madam Hooch are still out there. Harry and a few of the older boys have gone to try and help them."

For a moment Remus was paralyzed. His heart ceased to beat, he didn't breathe, he didn't blink, he didn't move. He'd never felt such terror in his life. Harry and Zhen were in danger. As much as he wanted to imagine his fear was for the two children alone he knew the greatest portion of his fear stemmed from their connection to their parents. If anything happened to Harry and Zhen he'd lose the last pieces of James, Lily, and Richard that were left in this world. He didn't doubt that he would grow to love the two children for themselves rather than their parents. He just hadn't had the chance in the week since classes started to get to know them. And he never would if he didn't do something.

"Hermione, you keep going to find Professor McGonagall. Ron, I want you to find any professor you can, tell them what's happened, and tell them where I've gone."

Remus didn't wait for an answer from the pair before he took off running down the hall.

"Professor!" He stopped and looked back at the stricken witch. "Where _are_ you going?"

"To help Harry and Zhen," he answered quickly. "You'd best get going, Miss Granger."

Remus turned, absently catching Ron's voice as he urged the girl to head for McGonagall's office while he ran down to the second floor to find Flitwick. Taking the stairs three at a time Remus was on the second floor well ahead of the boy and in what seemed an instant he had reached the grand staircase leading to the Entry Hall on the ground floor. The sight that met him made his knees weak and he made it down the last flight of stairs by sheer will. The first year Gryffindors and Slytherins looked as if they'd been through a hurricane. They looked up at him with tear-streaked faces, a spark of reassurance in their eyes at the sight of a professor. Remus could tell they wanted him to stop, but he couldn't, not when he knew some of his students, not when he knew Harry and Zhen were in danger.

Sprinting across the hall he saw only a blur of frightened faces, unaware that he was losing control of his magic until the doors to the castle flew open in front of him. Part of him reasoned that he needed to be calm. The larger part knew calm was impossible and embraced his terror as it spurred him on toward the quidditch pitch with feral speed. Remus could sense his wolf near the surface, responding to his heightened emotions. His usual lanky gait was now graceful and powerful, every pump of his legs sending him forward with inhuman speed.

"No! Zhen don't!"

His sensitive hearing caught Harry's voice in the wind and he ran faster, ignoring the chill of the dementors' hateful lust. He could see them now, dozens of them, swirling over the pitch and lunging hungrily at the small girl as she flew straight up into the sky. Remus stopped at the edge of the pitch, noting absently that one of the Weasley twins and Nate Alden were trying to protect Madam Hooch, while the second twin flew after Harry who'd shot straight up into the mass of dementors after Zhen. Without a second thought he aimed his wand, gathering every ounce of magic he could muster and shouted,

"Expecto Patronum!"

The mammoth lupine features were comforting, their brightness easing the chilling ache in his bones as it soared into the sky cleaving a mighty fissure in the wall of dementors between Remus and the little girl that was now plummeting to the ground. Unable to bear its light the dementors whirled and shrieked, withdrawing to the very edges of the pitch where they jeered at the wolf piteously. His patronus had never been so bright before and Remus felt a grim smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Memories of his friends might be what made him suffer most, but they also brought him the most joy.

Without even making a conscious decision to move Remus realized he was tearing across the pitch, his eyes fixed on Zhen as Harry dove after her. Harry seemed to falter for a moment until Remus' patronus came alongside him. The boy glanced at the spell and then searched the sky, screaming for the girl when he saw her well below him. Leaning low against his broom Harry cut through the wind whipping across the pitch from the efforts of the enormous bird that was still struggling against the dementors. He began to gain on her, Remus' wolf at his side, clearing a path through the guards of Azkaban.

It wouldn't be enough, he realized suddenly. Harry wasn't going to catch her, but when he opened his mouth to cast a spell he found his mind empty. There had to be a spell to stop her. He knew there was. If only his heart weren't pounding so fast, if only his chest didn't feel so tight, if only he weren't so miserably weak he could think of something. James would have thought of something, or Sirius.

However, it seemed that Harry shared Remus' concern and he urged his broom to go faster, tipping into a dive that made Remus' stomach clench.

"Please let them be ok. Please let them be okay," he found himself chanting as he continued to run toward them. "Please let them be okay."

He watched, amazed as Harry caught up with Zhen just twenty feet above the pitch, angling his broom under her slightly so that she was draped over the front of the handle just in front of him. Remus winced inwardly, knowing that the impact would have hurt her, but it would be nothing compared to slamming into the ground. The more pressing problem was that Zhen's added weight was preventing Harry from pulling his broom out of its dive. Remus watched as the boy pulled again and again on the handle, trying to level off. He was just about to conjure a mattress beneath them and pray it would be enough when one of the Weasley twins appeared out of nowhere and pulled up on Harry's broom, the added momentum enough to allow Harry to level off.

Harry grinned at the redhead wearily, but his smile quickly faded as the dementors began drawing closer. With Zhen's extra weight supported between them there was no way the boys could evade them. There were too many dementors for his patronus alone and more were coming. Remus looked up at his patronus, locking eyes with what logic told him was only a spell. To Remus it was much more in that moment as the wolf raised its head and howled silently. At first nothing changed. Then there was a flare of light so brilliant that for an instant Remus lost sight of the children. When he saw them again they were enveloped in light, his patronus pacing protectively at their side as the Weasley boy and Harry slowly lowered their brooms to the pitch. The dementors couldn't touch them.

"Expecto Patronum!"

Minerva's spell was echoed by others across the pitch and Remus felt a flood of relief knowing his colleagues had arrived. He didn't bother speaking with them though. Instead, he ran to the children, arriving just as the twin Remus now recognized as Fred touched down. The older boy turned as Harry's broom wavered, the pair working to lift Zhen carefully off of his broom. The instant the girl was in Fred's arms Harry and his broom collapsed.

"Harry, are you all right," Remus called, dropping to his knees beside the boy. James' son looked up at him, his expression pained, his eyes vacant and Remus thrust his hand into his robes, pulling out a chocolate bar. "Here," he commanded, snapping off a piece and thrusting it in Harry's hand. "Eat this."

The boy complied impassively while Remus clambered over the boys' brooms. Fred's hands were shaking as he knelt beside Zhen, trying to feel for a pulse.

"Here, Fred, take this," Remus ordered, shoving the rest of his chocolate bar into the boy's clammy hands. The boy nodded, looking nauseous as he stared at the motionless girl beside him. Remus laid his fingers against her throat, surprised to find his own hands steady. Wilting with relief he offered the distraught boy a smile. "You did well, Fred. Harry and Zhen are both going to be fine."

The redhead nodded, his nervous posture relaxing slightly, as he ventured a small bite of chocolate. Remus brushed the small girl's hair back from her face and nearly swallowed his tongue when a tiny head poked out of her robes. The small creature tipped its head, trilling softly.

"Hello there. Where on earth did you come from?"

"I think it must have been one of the creatures the dementors were chasing," Harry offered hoarsely and Remus was relieved to see the boy had returned to himself a bit. "Zhen had it on her broom with her. I think she was trying to get it away from the dementors."

"It's a good thing," Fred added, taking a larger bite of chocolate. "As much trouble as that bird was having I can't imagine how this little blighter would have fared."

"No kidding." Harry crawled unsteadily on his hands and knees so that he was sitting beside Remus, his hand stretching toward the little creature. "What kind of creature is it, Professor?"

Remus frowned, watching the animal closely as it nuzzled Harry's hand.

"I've never seen a creature like it before, Harry," he admitted.

The little animal purred quietly as Fred scratched behind its ears, although it made no move to leave its place tucked against Zhen's chest. He glanced behind him at the massive bird that was lying flat against the pitch, its mighty back heaving as it closed its eyes, finally able to rest now that the dementors had fled. He'd never seen anything like either creature, but he knew they were not ordinary creatures. They were teeming with magic, powerful magic.

"Shouldn't Zhen be awake now, Sir?" Remus returned his attention to the three children in front of him. Harry glanced at him nervously as he edged closer to Zhen. "It didn't take her this long to wake up last time, did it?"

Remus chuckled.

"You were both unconscious for a quite a while, you'll remember."

Harry blushed.

"Oh, right."

Remus smiled, laying his hand on the boy's shoulder and squeezing gently.

"Zhen is going to be fine, Harry. I promise." The boy smiled at him and nodded. Remus caught a figure striding toward them out of the corner of his eye and realized Harry's smile wouldn't last for long. He cleared his throat and leaned closer to them so as not to be overhead. "Heads up boys, your head of house is coming our way, and as someone who has been in trouble with her before, I recommend you plead guilty."

The two Gryffindors lost what little color they'd regained, Fred glancing over Harry's shoulder.

"She's wearing her Slytherin face," he hissed and Harry's eyes grew wide as saucers.

Remus covered his laugh with a cough.

"Her what?"

"Her Slytherin face. You know, that face she puts on when she's dealing with misbehaving snakes or Snape? The one that lets you know you're in for it and makes you wish she'd been born a sneaky Slytherin rather than a roaring lion?"

Remus cleared his throat, trying with great difficulty to maintain his composure.

"I don't think I've ever seen that face."

"Then you've never really gotten into the trouble with McGongall," Harry informed him quietly, stealing a quick look over his shoulder.

Remus arched a brow, no longer having to feign seriousness as he realized Harry's statement implied he was as much a troublemaker as James had been. He was less than pleased.

"I take that statement to mean you have?"

Harry swallowed slowly and his eyes flicked to Fred. The older boy sighed.

"I'm beginning to envy Zhen."

Remus rolled his eyes, but found his temper quickly receding as Harry nodded vigorously in agreement, glancing behind him again. Knowing the pair were about to face the lioness' wrath, he found he didn't have it in him to stay mad at either of them. At least in this instance their causing trouble had been to help rather than hurt someone. Remus wished he could say the same of himself as a boy.

"You'll be fine," he promised them mildly.

"Mr Potter! Mr Weasley!"

"Easy for you to say," muttered Harry.

Remus squeezed the boy's shoulder again as he stood, finding he liked having an excuse to do so as he turned to face his distressed colleague.

"They're all fine, Minerva," he assured his colleague as she strode with striking speed toward them. "They all managed to get safely to the ground. Miss Li is unfortunately still unconscious, but I've checked her vitals. She is doing well. The boys are already on the mend."

Minerva pursed her lips, her chest heaving as she held Remus' gaze. Although she suspected that to others she merely looked irate, inwardly she was torn between fury, pride, terror, and relief. Remus, it appeared, had settled for relief, the remnants of fear mere shadows in his warm brown eyes as he held out his hands in a placating gesture, putting himself between her and the children. She admired his dedication to his students and his caring nature. It appeared he hadn't forgotten her temper when dealing with him and his Marauder companions. She stopped abruptly and closed her eyes, breathing deep and willing herself to be calm. This was not some foolish prank and although they had been reckless, they had also been selfless and brave.

She opened her eyes. Remus had lowered his hands and nodded when she met his gaze again. Together they walked toward the three children, her calm slipping somewhat at the sight of Zhen lying motionless between the two boys. Her steps quickened and she brushed past Harry, kneeling beside the boy as she felt Zhen's pulse, assuring herself that the girl truly was fine.

"Her ribs may be a little bruised," Remus said quietly from where he stood behind Harry. "I think the dementors became too much for her. She slipped off her broom. Harry caught her with his, but I imagine hitting a broom handle at such speeds will have done some damage."

Minerva nodded.

"Ignoring for a moment the recklessness of your actions, are you boys injured?"

The two boys shook their heads, offering quiet "No, M'ams" with enough timidity that Minerva regretted the sharpness of her question. Swallowing, she nodded again and ventured a more gentle tone, even going so far as to lay her hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Are you certain?"

Harry started at her touch, not that Minerva could blame him. She was not one to show great affection to her students, but she found Remus' words a week earlier about the distance Hogwarts' professors tended to keep between their students particularly uncomfortable given the danger five of her students had found themselves in this morning. It was of course important to be professional, but Remus was right. Being in a boarding school was different, especially considering she was the Head of House for Gryffindor. If her students were too afraid to come to her, what good would she be to them?

"We weren't hurt, Professor," Mr Weasley finally answered, exchanging a confused glance with Harry. "A little out of sorts from the dementors, but nothing too serious."

"Good," Minerva declared, removing her hand from Harry's shoulder she cast a feather light charm on Zhen. "I'm going to take Miss Li to the infirmary. I think it would be best if you both came with me. Madam Pomfrey will want to be certain you're none the worse for wear. Misters Weasley and Alden have already been taken to the infirmary by Professor Flitwick. I would not be surprised if Madam Pomfrey kept you all for the afternoon and I expect no protests. Dealing with a dementor attack of that magnitude at your age can be a danger to your magic."

She leaned forward to pick up Zhen and started at the small creature tucked against the girl's stomach.

"Harry says Zhen was trying to keep it from the dementors," Remus explained. "It seems very disinclined to leave her."

Minerva nodded absently, eyes locked with those of the creature. She felt a gentle sentience push against her mind's shields and knew somehow without being told that this was one of the Clow Cards. That would suggest that the giant bird now crooning under Hagrid's ministrations was as well, which would explain Zhen's complete disregard for Madam Hooch's pleas to leave the pitch. Madam Hooch had been distraught by the girl's neglect for her safety and Minerva had assumed it a moment of Gryffindor recklessness that was an unfortunately common occurrence in her house, particularly with her younger students. Now she understood it was something very different. Lian had tried to impress upon them the danger that was involved with the Clow Cards. Until this moment, until she'd seen the fear of the battered first years, the decimated pitch, and her four brave lions reduced to pale and trembling children, she hadn't understood fully what that danger would look like.

She felt a gentle pulse of warmth and blinked, catching a faint lavender gleam of magic around the tiny creature in Zhen's arms and realized it was trying to comfort her. She swallowed hard, but nodded, passing the tiny creature to Mr Weasley.

"I think perhaps it would be best if the creature came with us as well, Mr Weasley. I do not want to add to Miss Li's distress by it not being present when she wakes."

Mr Weasley looked appropriately stunned by Minerva's gesture, but was smart enough not to say a word as Minerva scooped the weightless girl into her arms and stood.

"Can you both walk," she asked, addressing the boys.

The pair nodded and Mr Weasley stood without a problem. Harry however made it only a few inches off the ground before his knees buckled. Minerva frowned.

"Professor Lupin, I think you'd best conjure a stretcher for Mr Potter."

"No, please," the boy protested eagerly, trying to stand again and failing. "I-I don't need a stretcher. I can walk. I just need a little more chocolate. I don't need a stretcher."

"Apparently, you do, Mr Potter," Minerva stated, warning in her tone as the stubborn boy continued trying to stand.

"Please, Professor, I don't want everyone to see me."

His tone was pleading and Minerva felt her resolve crumbling. She could understand how such demonstrations would be embarrassing for him. It seemed that whatever happened, Harry was in the middle of it, always a spectacle. Lily had hated being noticed in school. Apparently it was a trait her son had inherited.

"Professor Snape and Professor Sprout have sent everyone to their common rooms, Mr Potter," she informed him quietly. "No one will see you."

The boy ceased his struggle and nodded, somewhat mollified although it was obvious he did not like being immobile. He looked up at Remus.

"Go ahead, Professor."

Remus nodded, but then did something quiet unexpected. Rather than reach for his wand he turned and crouched just in front of Harry, his back to the boy.

"A compromise, perhaps," was all he said, but Harry's face lit up with a grin.

"Thank you, Sir."

Remus smiled and nodded, helping the boy onto his back before standing easily. It was not something most professors would have done and the part of Minerva that maintained a strict façade in front of her students felt to scold him. The rest of her was too busy fighting back tears to manage it as Remus called to Fred and the three boys headed off toward the castle.

Minerva trailed behind them, Zhen cradled against her chest as Fred and Harry – the fright having passed – discussed their flying manoeuvers and those of Zhen with Remus, who agreed that the girl was indeed a skilled flier. She kept her eyes straight ahead as Aurora, Hagrid, and Septima stopped in their repairs of the pitch to stare at their little group making its way to the castle. Albus was waiting for them at the edge of the pitch. He greeted Remus and the two boys enthusiastically, stating that he was glad to see them unharmed. His eyes had never twinkled so brightly. Minerva scowled at him when he turned to her, his smile lifting the edges of his beard.

"Not one word, Albus. Not one single word."

"Not one," the headmaster agreed with a chuckle. He opened his mouth, poised to say several words Minerva knew she would not like when his mouth closed so fast she heard his jaw click. The twinkle in his eyes had vanished and he glared at something behind her. Minerva turned, her scowl deepening at the sight of a few dementors still hovering over the pitch. "It's bad enough that I must tolerate their presence night and day, but to have them endanger my students. I swear if they go beyond the boundaries again I will –"

He stopped abruptly and Minerva felt the heat of his magic as it threatened to explode. The Slytherin bleachers just behind him creaked, the ground beneath her feet quivered, and the air tasted of steel. Few wizards were as powerful as Albus. It was both the school's greatest protection and its greatest danger. Were Albus not a man of unfathomable restraint, she might have worried. But he was and as she watched him silently the air grew chill, the ground stilled, and the bleachers fell silent. Only his thunderous expression remained.

"Would this incident not be grounds to have them removed," she ventured quietly.

Albus' frown deepened.

"I fear not. The Ministry will argue that the creatures posed a viable threat and although you and I both know that not to be the case there is no way to prove that without risking Miss Li's safety."

Minerva sighed, looking down at the child in her arms.

"I'm afraid I hadn't fully prepared myself for what allowing her to come here would mean, for her or for the others."

Albus sighed, placing his arm around her shoulders and guiding her toward the castle. For an instant he seemed his age.

"I do not think it is something any of us could have been prepared for, much like Mr Potter's attendance. All we can hope for is that in the end, the both of them being here will prove better than the both of them being elsewhere."

To be contined…

I am SO sorry it took me so long to update. The chapter was mostly finished in August but the last six weeks I've moved three times and begun my Masters. :S Hopefully updates will be more regular from now on – every few months or so with four other stories and a degree to keep up with. Does the fact it's 6000 words longer than usual help my case? :P Next chapter we shall have Remus worrying over Zhen, Harry worrying over Black/Voldemort and finally gathering his courage enough to talk to Remus about it, and Kero getting mad at Zhen for hiding the book her grandfather gave Harry from her mother. Sorry – they can't all be action packed :P

Please review – I love to hear your thoughts always! Also, check out my profile. I've started posting some of the synopses for all the stories I have rattling around in my brain. I'd love to know which one you think I should do next. Right now I think it's only HP stories, but I have a bunch for other stories as well I just need to get on the ball enough to post them.

Next update will be my SW story The End is Only the Beginning, followed by my LOTRs Born of Hope and then Harry Potter and the Dark Lord's Daughter. My SW fic is ¾ done, the LOTR's is outlined...hopefully I'll be posting for this story again early next year. Love to all! Send me some love back! ;) 3 Sierra


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